Blood for Blood
by LeReno169
Summary: "I'm twenty-one years old and my skills are unmatched. I have never lost a duel, never lost a race and never not caught an outlaw. The Lopez gang is crafty, outrageously notorious and yet almost inconspicuous in their crimes. But someday soon, I will fulfil my mission. Santana Lopez, you better watch your back. Your family made the first move and now... It's my turn..."
1. It's My Turn

The year is 1884. It's Summer. A gentle breeze plays softly with my hair and caresses my skin. I can taste the sun on my tongue as I breathe, feel my skin tingle under its rays. The crows and hawks soar above, the freedom ruffling their feathers and their calls echoing through the surrounding hills. The scent of smoke from my camp fire nearby tickles my nose as I inhale deeply, enjoying the familiarity of it.

I hear the snap of a twig, jolting the serenity. My eyes snap open and ears prick up. I deliberately slow and deepen my breaths, keeping my heart rate low and remaining quiet. I slowly push the brim of my hat up back over my eyes and stop chewing on the barley resting between my lips. My eyes shift around out of pure instinct. I'm hidden in the tall crops of the field I sit in, leaning against a tall oak tree. I can't exactly see much else, but it was unusual for anyone to be round these parts other than the farmer himself and he'd gone home a while ago.

I hear it again, louder this time as it gets nearer. My hand inches toward my gun in its holster at my hip. I slowly withdraw it as I rise up from the ground, scanning my surroundings and keeping low. The sound of dirt being kicked carelessly sounds from right behind me, round the other side of the tree. I tense. My eyes narrow and I whirl around to the source of the sound, gun raised and cocked before I've completed the turn. I pause. There's nothing there. I can feel the hairs on the back of my neck rising, my heartbeat quickens, my eyes widen.

I feel another set of eyes burning holes in the back of my head. To say I am uncomfortable would be an understatement.

I hear a new sound. Kind of like a swishing sound.

My body instantly relaxes as I breathe a sigh of relief. I throw my head back and run a hand over my face, letting out an exasperated laugh. I re-holster my weapon, drop my shoulders and shake my head, a smile playing at my lips. Finally I turn around.

Archer snorts when he sees my reaction and snickers playfully. Little bastard!

"Archer, I'm not going to lie, you actually had me scared there! You're getting good at this!" I laugh, stroking his mane and scratching behind his ear.

When I was a kid, our family horse had a foal who I named Archer. I was given responsibility over him and throughout the years he's been the closest thing to a real friend that I've had. Sure, the other kids in the area were sort of my friends but they never really understood me the way Archer does. For hours every day we would lounge about in the paddock and I would just tell him everything that came to mind. Obviously it wasn't like he could talk back but instead of just standing, eating grass and wandering away, Archer stood in front of me as I sat cross legged on the ground, staring at me as if he understood exactly what I was telling him. We've even been through scraps together. A couple of times when I would stop at the local saloon I've gotten in fights with other patrons. This one hulk of a guy literally threw me out through the swinging doors and down the front porch. When he squatted down over me to pick me up by the collar of my shirt, Archer pulled so hard on the rope I'd tied him up with that it had snapped, he then galloped up to me and the man, reared and kicked the guy off me. Luckily the man wasn't killed but he didn't mess with me again. I honestly don't know what I would do without Archer, I love him like a brother. I know that sounds weird but it's true.

Archer whinnies and snickers, his tail whipping around again. He nudges me with his nose, pushing me back a little. I giggle and hold is head in both of my hands and rest my forehead against his.

"Where to now, buddy?" I ask. "I'm thinking back to Armadillo. Maybe pass through Thieves Landing for a game of Blackjack against ol' Kurt and Blaine. See if they have any information they might fancy passing on."

Archer whinnies again, kicking the dirt in agreement.

I walk behind him, take a deep breath, steel myself and narrow my eyes briefly in determination. I run the short distance between me and Archer, jump as high as I can, plant my hands above his tail and push myself to land in the saddle, grinning in achievement. He snorts and rears a little before breaking into a flat out gallop as he touches back down. I laugh loudly, enjoying the wind in my hair. I imagine that this is how it feels to be a hawk, flying through the hills, completely free.

See, I'm pretty free. I don't have a stereotypical job. I'm not the woman that helps her father as his nurse assistant. I'm not the girl with certain "clients" down at the saloon. I don't have a husband and kids to look after or a house to keep clean. Far from it, actually.

"_Brittany, would you like some warm milk?" My mother asked me, smiling as she popped her head in through the living room door._

"_Yes please, Ma!" I grinned. I loved warm milk before bed, it always helped me get to sleep and lately with growing pains, sleeping getting harder to do._

_I looked up to my father who was sitting in the armchair by the fire, reading one of his adventure novels. His glasses were slowly but surely sliding further and further down his nose. He sensed me staring at him and looked up and smiled._

"_Everything okay, Brittany?" He asked curiously, still smiling._

"_Everything's great, Pa." I beamed._

_I loved this. I loved the relationship my family had. My mother would always be more than happy to cook the best meals I'd ever tasted and I would always help her without hesitation. My father would let me help him in the fields with the crops and we would play fight when we stopped for breaks. I would jump on his back and he would pretend he didn't expect it and fall to the ground, feigning agony. At first I would get concerned that I had actually hurt him but then out of nowhere he would tickle me until I cried from laughter. In the evenings we would all sit together around the table, enjoying each other's company and relaxing. I loved my parents more than anything._

_Just then I heard a noise that was odd, for this time of night and in this area. I cocked my head and strained my ears to listen harder. It sounded like hooves, thundering closer. My eyes widened and I looked back to my father. I didn't think he could hear it because he just looked back up at me questioningly._

_What happened next changed my life forever._

_A bunch of men stormed into the house from all directions at the same time. Literally, all directions. The front and back doors were barged off of their hinges and every window was shattered as bodies threw themselves through them._

_My mother screamed and I heard a pan clatter to the floor in the kitchen. My father jumped out of his chair but was tackled to the ground, bound and gagged within a few seconds._

_I stared, my eyes the size of dinner plates, unable to make a sound nor move. All I could hear was my heart battering my ribs._

_My mother was brought in a second later by a huge, grimy man; her hands also bound behind her back and her mouth covered by the man's disgusting hand. Both my parents stared back at me, terrified._

_A large, dirty paw pressed down on my shoulder and I stiffened. I didn't dare turn around. Besides the three men holding me and my family, there were about twenty or so others lining the walls, watching with menacing grins._

_There was a long silence as my parents struggled against their captors, trying to get to me, until I heard footsteps on the porch outside. Everyone in the room turned towards the door in anticipation. In walked two people._

_The first was another man. He had on faded blue jeans underneath tan leather chaps. He wore snakeskin boots with shiny silver spurs and his torso was clad in a dirty black shirt. He wore a red neckerchief up over his mouth and nose, with his hat pulled down low, shading his eyes. One of his tanned hands was clenching and unclenching while the other rested on the gun at his belt._

_The second person was blatantly a woman. She was beautiful. Her skin was also of a tanned complexion, a little dirty but smooth. She had on a scarlet dress with a white lace trim and long sleeves. Her hat was also pulled down low, but there was no hiding her long, wavy black hair. She smirked as I scrutinised her, walked over me and grabbed my chin. She turned my head from side to side, examining me. She raised her eyebrow and her lips quirked into a devious little smile._

"_Tie her up too. She doesn't look like much but she has a similar fire in her eyes to our little one." She said. She had an accent that was rare around here. Spanish, I thought. My father had taught me about the Mexicans, these two people and a few others here must have been from there._

_The hand on my shoulder moved to bind my hands but didn't cover or stuff my mouth to stop me talking._

"_How old are you, little girl?" The woman asked sharply._

"_Thirteen years old." I replied, shocked at how calm my own voice sounded._

_The woman's dark eyes widened slightly and her lips parted a little. She turned to the man she walked in with. They seemed to have a silent conversation and a minute later the man nodded._

"_She is not to be harmed." She spoke to the man behind me. I felt him stiffen and then relax as he nodded._

"_Now," This time it was the man who spoke. "Billy, how are you? It's been a while. Honestly, didn't you miss us enough to pay us a visit?" His voice was menacing as he spoke to my father, who was still on the floor._

_My father tried to talk but the cloth in his mouth muffled his words. His eyes were wide as he struggled underneath his captor._

"_Billy, that was rhetorical. If I wanted to listen to your irritating voice I would have never ordered the guys to gag you before we came in here. You have a debt to be paid, Billy. I gave you time but apparently you're too cowardly to come to me. Did I mention that there was interest on the debt? See, the money would have been nice at first. But we grew impatient. Besides, we don't need the money, it just would have been nice. Also, we know you don't have an awful lot of money so we figure we'll just... Take the lives of you and your wife here." He smirked._

"_NO!" I screamed. "No! You can't! Please! Please! Don't kill them!"_

_The large hand covered my mouth and held me back as I tried to jump up. My parents looked at me with fear in their eyes. It wasn't fear for themselves, but for me. If they weren't going to kill me what did they want with me?_

_My mother tried to kick the man who held her but another just grabbed her by the legs and they dropped her onto the floor, straddling her._

_My father squirmed, trying to get to her but failed._

"_Any last words, Billy? Wife?" The woman sneered, gesturing for her cronies to take the cloths out of their mouths._

_They turned to me again, eyes apologetic and hopeless._

"_We love you, Britt." They both said in unison._

_I felt the tears that had welled up in my eyes escape freely now, an unending waterfall cascading down my face._

"_I l-love you t-too." I cried._

_My heart was frantic, my blood pounded through my ears, a lump sat in my throat, making it hard to breathe. I wanted to look away but hands held my face so I could only face my parents. I watched as the faceless man pulled his gun to my father's head and another held a knife to my mother's throat._

_There was a gut wrenching bang and a blood curdling slice and my parents were lying on the floor in front of me, in pools of red mingling together._

_I felt sick. I felt dizzy. My heart was pounding against my ribcage too hard. My blood was surely past boiling point. I threw up into the hand that covered my mouth and all over myself. Black spots popped up, blocking my vision. My head felt too light. My breath hitched as I tried to suck down more air. I felt weak. My eyelids felt heavy but I fought against the blackness. What was happening? I didn't know but I did know that that was the last time I ever saw my parents..._

_After that night I woke up in a strange room to sunlight streaming through the window. It turned out to be Sheriff Sylvester's house. She took me under her wing from then on, training me to use weapons and how to fight. She felt strongly about me being able to defend myself after that night. I wasn't complaining. In fact, I loved it._

_I made a promise to myself. I would hunt down the people who killed my only family. I would make them pay for what they did. I would make them feel the loss I had felt. I wouldn't kill them, that wouldn't cause them enough pain. I would hunt down their "little one" the woman had referred to. Then they would know what it felt like._

_I started to ask questions and though Sheriff was reluctant, she told me everything I wanted to know. I learned that the murderers were Carlos and Maria Lopez and their gang. I found out that they had a daughter named Santana who was the same age as me, which was why I guessed they had spared my life._

_At eighteen I left the Sheriff with Archer and set out to hunt down those that took everything away from me. I became a bounty hunter, capturing outlaws for money but mainly for information. The Lopez gang had a fierce reputation, but I was determined._

Three years later, I'm twenty-one years old and my skills are unmatched. I have never lost a duel, never lost a race and never not caught an outlaw. I've been biding my time, patiently gathering all information possible before I face the Lopez monsters. They are a crafty gang. Outrageously notorious and yet almost inconspicuous in their crimes. But someday soon, I _will _fulfil my mission.

Santana Lopez, you better watch your back. You're family made the first move and now it's my turn.


	2. Lucky?

**Hey guys! So I'm totally new at this.. Like, this is my first fanfic... Also I haven't written anything in soooo long, like over a year but after reading so many awesome Brittana/Santittany fics I was determined to try my own :)**

**If you fancy it, please review! For some reason I don't feel too impressed with this so far so if you have any helpful critique, help a sister out? ;D Thanks for reading guys! :D**

"Santana! Would you just give it the hell up and pass the knife here? I want to eat _some_time soon!"

"Puck, I swear to God, if you do not _shut_ the hell up, I will make it so your nickname is nothing but sick, humourless irony." I sneer, gutting the rabbit in front of me that I had shot earlier.

Puck snorts but remains silent. See, Puck's more commonly known as "Lucky Puck". He even has the word "Lucky" crudely tattooed from the dent at the bottom of his neck to below his left ear. Though contrary to popular belief, luck has nothing to do with it, it was me and my gang who had saved him.

"_Santana, have you heard of Noah Puckerman?" _

_I looked up, my eyes sparking with recognition. "I've heard of him and his bank robberies, yes."_

"_Well? Don't you think he could be a useful asset? He has proven skills."_

"_Quinn, I think we have enough proven bank robbers."_

"_We can never have enough. Besides, he's also skilled in assassination and general theft." She said._

"_Okay fine. Let's say we find him and recruit him. He's a successful criminal sure, but what if when it comes to normal conversation, he's about as sharp as Hudson? I don't think I could put up with another idiot. That's why everyone I recruit myself is like you or me. Finn's only here because his father was in the gang when my parents ran it." I sighed, rolling my eyes._

_Quinn chuckled and I could see her eyes smile too, which was rare. She's a relatively dark person, Quinn Fabray. She's had a bad past and whenever someone tries to bring something about it, she snaps at them, deflecting, and stays silent for the rest of the night. The only reason I know her past is because we grew up together, her parents were like my mother and father's right-hand people. So naturally, she was now my right-hand woman._

"_If he's as much of an idiot as Hudson, then we leave him. Come on Santana, what have we got to lose? It's only a new recruit, not a showdown." Quinn pleaded._

_I studied her face for a few moments. Her beautiful hazel eyes were almost desperate, her perfect eyebrows curved upwards a little and her pink lips pushed out in a slight pout._

_I groaned._

"_You've been staring at his "Wanted" poster, haven't you?"_

_Shock flickered across her eyes before her features quickly righted themselves._

"… _No…"_

"_Quinn!" I sighed. "I'm not gonna recruit _just _because you think he's handsome!"_

"_But Tana! I haven't had anyone to play with for a long time! The last time was about four months ago when we stopped in Cholla Springs for one night!" She whined. "I need a little fun once in a while. Anyway, I know you need some fun too," A not-so-sly wink. "When was the last time you slept with someone?"_

_I stared at her, taken aback. "Okay, first of all, you sound like an infant when you refer to it as 'playing' and 'a little fun'. Second of all, are you implying that we should recruit him so we can sleep with him?"_

"_No, no! Well… Kinda… I don't-… Can we just-…" Quinn sighed, trying to find the right words. "Can we just track him down and see if we like what we see?"_

"_Okay fine. We'll hunt him and watch him for a while." I reluctantly agreed._

_A couple of days later we were riding into the last town Puckerman had been sighted in. And what a sight we saw. The entire town must have been gathered out on the main street, squashed together around a wooden structure. Though from where I sat upon Sapphira I couldn't see much._

_I signalled to my men to fan out behind and between the buildings lining the road and for Quinn to follow me. I pulled my neckerchief up over my face and my hat down low. The makeshift mask had belonged to my father, the last thing I had of his. My hair was already tied up so I swiftly tucked it under my mother's hat._

_I saw Quinn doing the same in the corner of my eye, her short and choppy hair tucked behind one ear. Slowly we rode up to the crowd, remaining quiet so as not to attract unnecessary attention._

_Finally I got a better angle and was shocked to see the man I recognised to be Puckerman hanging four feet from the ground with nothing holding him up but the hangman's noose. His feet were dancing the gallows' jig and his throat emitted sickening grunt-like gurgling sounds._

_Before I could think, instinct kicked in. I snapped my gun from its holster, cocked the hammer and pulled the trigger._

_Several things happened at once. Screams chorused around me. Men, women and children ducked and ran for their lives. Puckerman's body crashed to the ground below him. My men came charging out in a swarm. Sapphira bolted forwards, Quinn and her horse, Raine, riding beside me. Together we leaned down, grabbed our target and threw him over my saddle in front of me._

_We stormed out of there, a few men staying behind to deal with anybody who dared challenge us._

_From that day on, Puckerman was known as Lucky Puck because if I had been a couple of seconds later at pulling the trigger, he would have been a dead man. For a while Quinn had her fun with him but eventually she got bored. We kept him though. He was indeed a useful asset and became, like Quinn, sort of a right-hand man to me._

I've finished gutting and skinning my rabbit and now I sit staring into the flames as I cook it. Remembering the day I saved Puck reminds me of my parents.

I think of how they were the most notorious outlaws of the west. Unstoppable. Brutal. Cunning. Masters of mischief. When I was a child they would tell me tales of their robberies, train me how to use weapons and how to ride. I dreamed of being like them. They would never tell me of their murders though, for which I'm thankful. Murder is nothing for a child to hear about.

They would tell me that one day, I would be in charge of the men. That the men were also my family and would do everything I asked of them.

I never thought that day would come so suddenly.

It was the night before my twentieth birthday that I received word that my mother and father had been killed in a fight at a saloon. A man had tried to bed my mother and after she had repeatedly told him no, he had slapped her. My father had turned at the sound at the other side of the room and ran up to the man and punched him. The man had turned to my father, pulled out a knife at ran it into his temple. Without a second thought. My mother had screamed and the man just beat the life out of her. Just like that.

I seethe, tears pricking my eyes. Over a year has passed and it still hurts to think of that night.

After I had heard the news I rounded up the – my – men and hunted that murderer down.

That was the first human I had ever killed…

I shake the thoughts from my head. Of course, I'm a notorious outlaw gang lord – gang lady? - with a fierce reputation. I'm nothing if not cold, calculating yet ruthless.

So why can't I stop these emotions?

I groan, frustrated, and kick my rabbit. I've lost my appetite.

"What the hell? What was that for?" Puck shouts, coming from God knows where.

I look up at him blankly, honestly not caring what he thinks or for what he has to say. I think he senses my mood because he shuts up, avoids eye contact, picks up my rabbit, brushes it off and proceeds to walk away, tearing bites from it as he goes.

I stare straight through his retreating back and sigh.

For such a "Cold bitch", I sure have a lot of issues…

* * *

_Okay, so that was Chapter 2, Santana's intro! :D What did you think? If you're thinking what I think you're thinking, you're wondering "If her parents have been dead for over a year, how come Brittany's still hunting them?"_

_Well, you'll find out in the next chapter ;)_


	3. As Usual

**Sorry about the wait guys! I've been super preoccupied this past week! I swear I changed this chapter about a million times XD Thank you so much for the reviews and all the alerts! It makes me crazy happy! Although, reviews are lovely and interesting and helpful, so please please please review! Anyway, read on my lovelies! :D**

*_**Brittany POV***_

As I hitch Archer up to the post outside the saloon in Thieves Landing I can hear glasses clinking and men and women laughing and cheering. A grin spreads across my face with anticipation. Thieves Landing has always been the place to drink, gamble and meet people. Sure, not exactly people someone like me should mix with, being a bounty hunter and all. But they don't know the real me. They all think I'm just another thief. They don't know my last name, it's unimportant here.

I stroll through the doors to a chorus of "Well look who it is! Brittany's here!"'s, my grin only growing. I guess I'm popular here. I smirk.

"Ladies, gentlemen," I greet. "Miss me?"

Ironically, I feel comfortable here. Good thing they don't know I'm the one putting their friends behind bars…

The bartender waves me over.

"Hey Brittany! The usual?"

"Hey Sam! Yeah, please. It's been a long ride."

"Where'd you come from this time?" Sam asks, smiling as usual. I've always been amused by his huge lips…

"Oh you know, just the middle of nowhere. As usual." I smile. I have a reputation of just wandering off in my own little world.

I let them believe what they want.

Sam hands me my bourbon and I turn to lean on the bar, my eyes searching. Bingo! Kurt and Blaine are in their usual corner. Playing Blackjack. As usual.

I push off the bar and saunter over to their table, shouting to Rachel the waitress to get on over to the piano and sing us a song, and throw myself down in one of the free chairs.

"Gentlemen," I smile. I turn to the dealer, "Deal me in."

"Brittany! Where have you been! We've got things to tell you," Kurt squeals with a wink.

"Definitely, you'll love this!" Blaine chimes in, excitement alight across his face.

"Yeah?" I giggle. "Hit." I tap the table as the dealer puts down cards. 14. I tap again. 20. "Stick."

"Yeah! Hit... Hit… Shit! Anyway, so you're always curious about the Lopez gang right? Well we just got some secret information. So secret in fact, that nobody but the gang itself has been privy to this information for over a year." Kurt babbles on.

"Over a year? How can it be of importance now then?"

"Have faith my dear and hold on to your stool! Hit… Hit... Hit… Stick!" Blaine grins.

"Maria and Carlos Lopez? Murdered last year in a saloon up North!" Kurt explodes, leaning towards me.

Murdered? Well, shit! That ruins everything! Ugh, there goes years of training and preparation.

"Their daughter, Santana hunted down the murderer and killed him that same night! She didn't want there to be anyone to brag about it or hear about it. Most of all she wanted revenge." Blaine winks.

Kurt continues, "She's the one running the gang now. Her parents must be watching proudly from Heaven… Or Hell." He grimaces.

Huh. Her parents must be watching eh? Well then. Maybe all is not lost… I still want revenge and I'm sure their beloved Santana must be absolutely distraught. Perhaps I should put her out of her misery?

"Brittany? You haven't said anything yet…"

"Huh? Sorry, I was just thinking. Poor Santana." I pretend to act sympathetic.

"I wouldn't worry about her. She's as cold as ice. She's been leading the gang as if it were her destiny."

I nod, not really listening, but thinking up a plan B.

_***Santana's POV***_

So tonight we decided we are going to relax a little and drink a lot. Puck also thinks he can win all my money in a game of Blackjack. All I could do was smirk. He has yet to learn.

This is kind of a tradition in the gang. The night before every robbery or hijacking, we go to the best saloon near the location and basically just drink, gamble, drink, smoke cigars, drink, get into bed with strangers and did I mention drink?

Tomorrow night we plan on holding up the train that passes through MacFarlane's Ranch as it comes through the woods on the outskirts of town. We're looking forward to it. The thrill of yelling and hollering "GET DOWN AND PUT YOUR HANDS IN THE AIR OR WE _WILL_ SHOOT!" and the power you feel when you hold a gun to someone's head and take their money? Priceless.

I can't help my evil grin. God, I'm so bad.

"What are you grinning so evilly about?" Quinn inquires.

"Just thinking about how much I'm looking forward to tomorrow night. And that I'm just so _bad_." I smirk.

Puck rides up next to us, obviously having heard what we had said. "You look exquisite when you think evil thoughts," he winks.

Ugh, he is such a sexual predator.

"Gee, thanks Puckerman. Come on, we're almost there. Gallop."

With that we break out into a flat out race, competitive as we are.

_***Brittany's POV***_

So after our game of Blackjack, which I won, we took a seat at a table in a reclusive corner where the light doesn't quite reach. Kurt, Blaine and I must be on our third or fourth drinks.

"Ugh! How could I forget?" Kurt suddenly slaps his palm to his forehead. "The Lopez gang is robbing a train round these parts tomorrow night!"

How and where he gets all his information I'll never know.

"Where?" I gasp.

"The forest near MacFarlane's," Blaine answers.

I swear, these two are too damn close. Finishing each other's sentences and answering for each other.

"Rumour has it they are coming here tonight to carry out their tradition of getting into absolute states the night before the heist, too!"

"Here? Tonight? As in the infamous, notorious Santana Lopez and her followers are going to be in this saloon in a matter of hours, possibly minutes?"

Well hello, Opportunity, my name's Brittany. Lovely to make your acquaintance.

I have no control over the devious smirk that moulds my features.

"… You're not thinking of following them are you, Brittany?"

I don't answer. I don't wish to lie to them any more than I already have.

"That's why you always ask so many questions about them!" Kurt exclaims.

Sure… Let's go with that…

"Well yeah!" I don't have to fake my excited grin. "Wouldn't you want to join the most powerful gang in the West? To have people fear you wherever you go?"

Blaine and Kurt just look at me, clearly confused. To them, I was just Brittany who picks pockets and lives in a beautiful world full of rainbows and lush green grass.

My train of thought is abruptly put on hold as I hear the sounds of thundering hooves, hollering and screaming, whooping and laughter. I whirl to face the swinging doors in anticipation as the thundering stops but the whooping and laughing grow in volume.

I try to stop my lips from curling up at the corners and the tremors of excitement that pulsate throughout my being.

Tonight, I put my plan into effect. Tonight I will befriend Santana Lopez and join her gang. Tomorrow, I will start to gain her trust. Soon, I will become her closest confidant. And when that moment comes? Santana Lopez will be no more.

I hear the clank of spurs and thuds of boots walking up the porch towards the entrance.

My heartbeat increases, pounding through my ears.

I hear the loud voices of men and two distinct females.

My fingers twitch as they grip the back of my chair.

The doors are swung open as the first of the gang steps into the bar.

What?

All my thoughts are shut down, my body frozen.

I can do nothing but stare.

Her skin is a beautiful caramel, smooth like glass. Her hair falls in gorgeous raven ringlets around her shoulders. Her plump, toffee lips are parted in a wide smile, showing off perfect teeth as she laughs. Her laugh… It's more vibrant and musical than the peal of a bell. Her eyes are of pure espresso, dark and mysterious. Exhilarating.

Sweet baby Jesus.

My daze is broken by the tall man with a Mohawk. Lucky Puck. He thumps his fist down on the bar yelling for a drink.

Then I remember who I was staring at. Lopez. Lopez the murderer, the daughter of sinners. The object of my revenge.

The fact that she is wearing the same neckerchief and hat that have haunted my nightmares since I were a child only fuels my disgust, my anger.

Focus, Brittany. Eyes on the prize.

Time to put my plan into action.

I down the rest of my drink, slam it back onto the table and excuse myself.

And now I walk towards my unsuspecting victim. Hey Lopez, you're about to find your newest recruit.


	4. That God Damn Pout

_****_**Sorry for the wait guys, work's been pretty crazy lately and because of that I've just been to exhausted to do much :/ Thanks so much for all the reviews and alerts! Like holy crap, I never expected to get THAT many alerts! Thanks!**

**So this is where Santana and Brittany finally meet! Hope you guys enjoy it! Please review?**

_***Santana's POV***_

Just to let it be known, I won the race, of course. So don't let Lucky Puck or Quinn say otherwise.

I love the adrenaline that pumps madly through my veins when we race, the speed is amazing. Sapphira, my horse, is the fastest in the gang. I train with her whenever I get the time and I shit you not, she's like a giant dog sometimes. I can actually have her lay down and stay down and I can even sit on her when she does. Strange as it may sound, we're really tuned in to one another. So winning races is never difficult for us.

We were still laughing and shouting when the race was over, the excitement ebbing away almost as slowly as a snail moves. Puck looks extremely dejected that he lost so I pat him on the back and joke with him until he feels better. Call me selfish, but I don't actually care if he's upset or anything, I just don't want him to get on my nerves tonight. Which he will do if he's in a mood.

I lead the gang into the saloon, Quinn and Puck on my flanks. That's the way it always is, wherever we go, I always lead with Quinn and Puck behind me, forming a triangle. I'm gonna be honest, it makes me feel that much more powerful. The rest of the boys just follow behind in an orderly fashion for the most part but not necessarily organised.

I can't remember if we've been to this saloon before but it seems vaguely familiar. I turn to ask Quinn if she remembers but she just tells me that if we have, we were too drunk to really realise where we were. I laugh heartily at this, not today have truer words been spoken.

The room quietens as we come thundering in and I feel the familiar burn of eyes on me as we walk to the bar. I merely shrug, we're used to this reaction, we don't care. We know that for other people, our presence can only mean trouble. Oh well.

"Oi, Mister Bartender! Where the hell is our service?" Puck shouts as he slams his fist down on the bar. I laugh, because I know he's not actually pissed off, merely taking the piss. He knows fine that we haven't been served yet because we literally just came in the door and the bartender's serving some man.

I frown. That's odd. I can still feel eyes on me… Any normal person would have looked away as soon as they had realised who they were staring at. Someone's got balls…

"Please, call me Sam." The bartender tells us as he saunters over, polishing a glass with his cloth. "What can I get you, Miss Santana? Miss Quinn? Lucky Puck?"

I snort, being polite to us doesn't mean we're going to be polite to you…

"Rum." I snap, looking around.

I didn't hear Puck and Quinn order their drinks. I was too distracted by the blonde walking towards me.

I felt my head tilt and my eyes widen slightly as I scrutinised her, but didn't really register the action.

Her hair is so long and so light with natural streaks running through it… Like the sun beaming down through the clouds onto the scorching desert. Her eyes were so, _so _blue… Darker around the edge of her iris' but wonderfully bright circling her pupis, reminding me of the ocean.

The ocean… I haven't seen the ocean since I was an infant, living in Mexico.

I think it is because of that, her eyes make me feel at home when I gaze into them…

Her skin is creamy but sun-kissed. Clearly she spends a lot, if not most of her time outdoors. It's beautifully smooth and silky looking with freckles spattered here and there. She is tall, possibly three or four inches taller than me, even with the slight heel of my boots.

Her faded denim pants fit her nicely, though the slightest bit baggy. I don't know why but I can't help but trace my eyes over her long legs a little longer than necessary. A silver locket hangs around her neck and rests gently in the dip of her collar bone. As my eyes scan over her torso, again I find my eyes attached to her chest. The top buttons of her white shirt are undone, her cleavage on show.

I feel a strange pulling sensation in my abdomen as I look, my mouth even started to water.

I shake my head, my thoughts clearing. What the hell?

Why the hell was I staring at her breasts?

And what's up with that feeling?

I'll deal with that later, she's walking straight for me.

For some reason I find it hard to breathe, gasping for air.

Okay, seriously, what.. The hell?

"Howdy," Pretty blonde smiles. "You must be Santana Lopez."

I nod, not sure if it's safe to speak yet with my lack of oxygen.

"The name's Brittany. Can I getcha a drink?" She grins wider still.

Brittany… That's a mighty nice name…

"Sure you can." I say, still staring at her.

Eh? Why am I being… Ugh, nice?

"I mean, uh," I clear my throat. "What do you want?" I snap.

Brittany looks confused at my sudden change of composure. Ha ha..

"Um, to get you a drink?" She says slowly.

I narrow my eyes at her.

"And why do you want to do that? You obviously want something in return, otherwise you wouldn't bother."

Damn, I'm good. But _so_ bad. But good. Following?

I see something that resembles hesitance flicker across her face, but then she speaks up.

"I want to join your gang for the robbery tomorrow."

How the fuck do people find out about our robberies BEFORE they've happened?

"And why should I even consider that? As you can see, I have more than enough men. What makes you think I would need you?"

"I have talent." She says simply.

I laugh. "Talent? Like what?"

"I rob people. I've never been caught, not once."

"You rob people. Okay, so you're a pickpoket?"

She nods.

"I fail to see how that will help rob a train."

Her shoulders slump, she's visibly disappointed. That pout…

Well, shit. Normally I would chuckle darkly and be done with it. But that pout? Ugh.

"Fine. Show me what you got. Meet us in the forest at midnight tomorrow. I assume you know where I mean, seeing as you knew about the robbery in the first place."

She grins, straightening up to full height, elated.

"Yes Ma'am."

"Christ, don't call me that. Do I look old to you?"

"Not at all, you're the same age as me."

"What are you, some kind of stalker? Knowing my age and everything?"

"Nope, just a fan of your work." She smiles and turns to walk away.

I stare at her back as she goes, clueless as to what just happened.

Since when did I just _give_ chances away?

God damn blonde pickpocket with that god damn pout...


	5. Close Call

_****_**So I wrote a longer one for you guys this time :D I just noticed I've literally been up all night writing it... I JUST finished and it is now 4:57am...**

**Again, thank you all for your reviews and alerts!**

**Ptoricandblt, you cheeky little thing you ;), it's thanks to your bang tidy reviews that this chapter is the longest so far ;D**

**Oh guys, a little heads up, this chapter's got a bit of violence. But hey, it's an M so you should be cool :)**

**Please can you take the time to review? Even a little one, it's always nice to read what your thoughts are :)**

_***Santana's POV***_

I woke up at noon today, the day of the robbery, feeling like I had been clunked over the head with a mallet and had swallowed live snakes that were writhing in my stomach. Needless to say, I wanted to curl up and die.

Instead, I threw up.

Compromise, see?

I may be an asshole, but even my body has its kind moments. I felt better after that.

Slightly…

Though even through the nauseous fog in my head, all I could think of was Brittany from last night.

I thought of her beautiful hair, her mesmerising eyes, her flawless skin…

Her God DAMNED pout!

I had continued to sneak glances over in her direction all night until she finally got up and left.

Which she didn't do, without staring straight into my eyes for a long moment, causing my heart to flutter.

Why had I reacted in such a way? I've met hundreds of women before, hell, hundreds of _people _before and never had I had such a reaction as that.

Never have I ever found myself staring at long legs, breasts or backsides on either gender.

Well, obviously not breasts on men… That's just nasty…

Did I mention her backside?

No?

Well, let me tell you, it was a _nice _backside.

See? What the hell is going on?

I've never even been bothered by the taut, defined muscles on a lot of the men I know, like Quinn always is. They just never did it for me. But Brittany?

I couldn't stop staring, practically drooling as her hips swayed as she walked away from me. It was almost hypnotising.

And the muscle thing?

Her shirt sleeves had been rolled up to just above her elbows, exposing her silky forearms and it was clear that she was toned. She had long, wiry muscles flowing beneath her marble skin. It was a subtle sight, but clear. The thought of those arms alone brought back that odd pressure in my abdomen.

I had shook off such thoughts and focused on getting everything ready for tonight, needing to keep my head busy with other things. I couldn't let her take over my mind like that. She wasn't even with me for crying outloud.

Now, I'm sitting on a particularly thick patch of moss with my back leaning against the body of a fallen tree with Quinn and Puck to my sides, sitting on said tree, each of us with our pans full of either beans or soup. We watch on as the boys all sort out their own dinner, mess around and play fight.

The sun is setting behind me, casting a soft orange glow throughout the trees and ferns. There is a light, jovial mood which encapsulates the gang as midnight approaches. Laughter and excited shouts fill the air around us. The scent of the wood burning in our fires generously fills our nostrils, the smoke rising in wispy tendrils, in which the warm light gently plays.

It's getting on for eight o'clock and I'm wondering where Brittany is. Considering how eager she had been, I thought she would have been here by now.

Perhaps she is in the wrong neck of the woods? No, that wouldn't make sense. I'm pretty sure my boys could be heard from anywhere else in the surrounding area.

It's a good thing nobody lives around here.

She'll show up, I know it.

I sigh contentedly, basking in the relaxing atmosphere.

"All good, Capitano?" Puck enquires, his lips spread in a lazy grin, eyes closed.

"All good. Just enjoying the calm before the storm."

"You make it sound like it won't be fun."

"Oh it will be, I know that. I just meant that I'm soaking up the serenity before adrenaline and excitement and whatnot races through me. You know what I mean?"

"I do," Quinn piped up, breaking her long silence. "This is often my favourite part of our days, when we get it."

Puck and I just hummed in agreement, too relaxed to form more words.

_***Brittany's POV***_

Tonight's the night. Tonight I prove myself to Santana and she accepts me as one of her own. It was surprisingly easy to get her to consider me though, if I'm honest. I was expecting to be there, practically begging for her to give me a shot. But no. All it took was a momentary lapse in my act and a habitual pout, to get what I wanted.

I wasn't thinking. Before I had walked up to her I had the whole conversation planned out in my head, preparing for all possible outcomes.

What I didn't prepare for?

Her.

I don't even know what came over me. But staring into her eyes, watching her watch me, I had lost all train of thought. I didn't even notice I was pouting until I saw her gaze at my lips. Seeing that it was working however, I took full advantage, milking it for all it was worth.

But afterward, I couldn't help but wonder why she had been staring so long. Particularly at my legs. And I could swear she was gazing at my chest for an inexplicable amount of time. I saw her take in my features, as I had hers when she had first walked in.

Confusion aside, I need to get going, it's already half past ten.

* * *

I arrive at my destination around half an hour later, not stopping until I find Santana herself. I have no need to converse with her cronies.

I scan the area repeatedly, there's not a wisp of long, dark hair to be seen.

Where on earth is she?

"Well, don't you look confused? Even perhaps a little upset?"

… That was definitely Santana's voice. But where did it come from?

"Okay, downright perplexed now." She chuckles.

My neck snaps up and there she is, sitting up high in a tall tree a few meters away from me, one leg stretched out along the thick branch whilst the other just hangs loosely, her back resting against the trunk. She has an annoying smirk plastered all over her face, smug that she had caught me by surprise.

"What the heck are you doing up there?"

"If you must know, I like it up here. I see things more clearly from up here."

I sense she's not talking about just overseeing the operation.

"What kind of things?"

"All kind of things." She says simply.

With that she gathers her legs and rocks onto the balls of her feet, perched like a bird on the branch. She then suddenly jumps to the branch below. Which is about ten feet below. I can only stare, she's so agile. Like a cat.

No, more like a mountain lion.

Agile, elegant, beautiful, deadly.

She jumps the last few branches until her feet finally find solid ground and sees my transfixed gaze, prompting yet another dang smirk. She brushes down her backside, wiping off dirt and thin layers of bark as she saunters over to me, never breaking eye contact.

Is she trying to intimidate me?

I smoothly dismount Archer and stand face to face with Santana, my height and confidence instantaneously put an end to her little game.

"So... You wanna help with the robbery." It's more of a statement than a question.

"Sure do." I nod.

"Fine, first of all, you can help the boys set the trap."

I'm about to ask her for further details when she randomly brings her hands to her lips, cupping them together to make a hollow shell. She takes a deep breath and slowly but forcefully, blows through the small gap between her thumbs.

The sound she makes is beautiful. It's reminds me of the call of a barn owl. But it also makes me think of a firm but gentle winter's breeze one might hear in the dead of night. The kind that chills you to your bones but you still can't help but listen in awe. Santana's sound sounds like that, but smooth as honey, dripping from between her fingers.

I stare at her, my eyes wide. I'm about to ask her what that was for but she holds up a finger to silence me, her chin raised and slightly to the side as she gazes off into nothing. I see her ear prick up as she listens. What she's listening for I have no idea, but I feel it's best I don't ask.

The corners of her lips twitch as I watch…

I can feel my confusion etched onto my features as I wait, ever so slightly impatiently.

"BOO!" I jump, out of fright, as a sudden heavy weight presses down against my shoulders.

Santana is still in front of me, doing nothing, just grinning that smug little grin.

Snap.

Hello Instincts…

I grab one of the hands from my shoulder, bend my knees a little and spring back up, whirling around as I do so, bending my attackers arm into a painful position.

"GAAHH!" Puck yells, knees buckling, clearly surprised.

Thing is, once my survival instinct kicks in, it's hard to switch off…

I lift up my right fist, pull my arm back, and slam my knuckles round into the side of Puck's head.

I let go of his arm and he slumps forward, face down in the dirt.

He might be out for a while…

I take a few deep breaths to calm down.

Inhale… Exhale… Inhale… Exhale…

I pivot on my heels back round to face Santana, who is now staring at me, wide eyed and slack jawed. Blatantly, she didn't expect that either.

I smirk.

_***Santana's POV***_

It's five minutes to midnight. The train will be here any minute now. I had the boys set up a blockade across the tracks with whatever they could find. Of course, leaving Puck in charge of that, not only had they built a blockade, they'd practically built a bloody wall out of fallen trees and branches.

Well, it works.

My men – and Quinn and Brittany – all line the tracks, hidden behind the trees at the bottom of the slight banks, their lanterns casting a haunting glow through the fog that settles over the tracks.

Me?

I get the best view in the house.

I'm standing right at the top of the wall, holding my lantern out to my side.

Reckless is my middle name.

… After Maria…

Not really, but hey. One can dream.

I stare out and down over the tracks, straining my ears for the sound of wheels turning sluggishly, engines wheezing and steam pissing.

I can faintly hear a slight rumble but now I can see light bouncing off of the leaves of the trees that line the corner in the track a few hundred yards away.

The rumbling is getting louder and the light brighter.

"LIGHTS OUT BOYS!"

All lanterns went out simultaneously, except for mine.

"ON MY MARK!"

The train is on the straight now, heading straight for me.

I hold my light higher and out in front of me, but otherwise, I make no movements.

I hear the brakes scream in protest and the horn blare as the driver finally sees me and the blockade, trying to slow to a stop as soon as possible.

He's not slowing fast enough.

"Santana! Move, you fucking idiot! You're going to get fucking killed!" I hear Quinn's stern shout.

I'm determined however, that if the train cannot stop in time, that I will survive it.

I am Santana Lopez, after all.

I glance over to see Brittany kneeling next to Quinn, her insanely wide eyes boring into me, shock and disbelief dominating her features. The way her body is poised like that makes me think she's practically dying to push me out of the way of the train.

This confuses me for a second, until I remember what's headed straight for me.

The train has slowed down but it is still moving at enough speed to knock down the blockade and me along with it.

I widen my stance, coil my muscles and narrow my eyes, bracing myself.

It's still coming, the brakes still screaming.

I smirk, chuckling quietly to myself.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

1…2…3…

I open my eyes again and laugh.

The very tip of my boot is lightly brushing the front of the train and if I let go of my outstretched lantern, it'll fall an inch before landing on the roof next to the chimney.

I feel my features mould into my infamously evil grin as I pull up my neckerchief and my hat down.

"GO GET 'EM BOYS!"

As soon as I had uttered the first syllable, my men were streaming out from between the trees, their faces masked and their guns and, in some cases, knives raised, shouting and screaming.

I hop down from my wall and walk up to the driver's carriage. I see the man cowering in the corner with his face behind his quivering hands, sobbing noisily.

"Aaaw old man! What are you so afraid of? I don't bite!" I snigger.

The man whimpers and shakes his head frantically.

"Come on buddy, do I _look _like I'm going to bite? No. I look like I'm going to-"

The ball of my left foot collides with his face, blood spurting out from his nose and sending him flying into the wall, knocking him out cold.

"Kick." I finish. "Aaaw shiit! I _just _cleaned these god damn boots this morning!"

I sigh.

Some things just can't be helped, can they?

I'm brought back to reality by the sound of shouts, grunts and gunshots.

As girly as it is, I squeal out of excitement and run towards the nearest carriage, holding my hunting knife in my right hand and my pistol in my left, crossing them so my left wrist is supported by my right.

"Ladies and gentlemen! How are we all this evening? Beautiful night, have you seen? Stars shining bright, full moon, fog-covered forest floor, the whole deal!" I holler joyously to my terrified hostages.

I can see Finn half way through the carriage, holding his gun to a mans head, screaming for money.

I shake my head, tutting.

Indeed, his choice of tactic is a classic, and brilliant.

But I don't know, I'm just not interested in getting this over and done with. I want some fun.

"Ladies, gents! Might I have your undivided attention for uno momento por favor?" A little bit of Spanish reminds them who they're dealing with here. "Would you all be so kind as to watch this man here, as he robs your fellow passenger."

Finn looks up, confused.

Ugh, fucking idiot.

"He has his gun to the mans head and is practically screaming at the poor fella. That's not nice is it?"

Nobody answers me, they're all too shocked. Good.

I fire a shot into the seat to my 2 o'clock, purposefully narrowly missing the womans ear as my bullet sank into the red leather. Her scream reverberates throughout the carriage, horribly loud.

"I _SAID, _'THAT'S NOT NICE, IS IT?'" I yell.

Every head shakes vigorously, desperately trying to avoid doing anything that might piss me off now.

"No. It's not. So Mr. Giant, if you would like to watch as I demonstrate how to take someone's money."

Now Finn stares at me with wide eyes.

Seriously, you'd think my own gang would be used to me by now…

I walk slowly through the small portion of train, my eyes scanning for someone who looked like they had more money.

I see a man sitting almost directly between myself and Finn, wearing a brilliantly new, clean suit, expensive hat and gold rings.

I trot up to him smiling sweetly. I've put my gun back in my holster but now I play sheepish as I smile at the man, however still subtly threatening him as I pick the dirt out from underneath my nails with the point of my blade. I pretend to nervously scuff my boot on the floors.

"Excuse me, sir? I see that you have money, would you mind possibly sharing it with me?" I ask, in my most adorable little-girl voice.

The man quickly nods and starts stripping himself of his expensive goods. He rips the rings off his fingers, takes money out of his pockets and finally his wallet, slamming them all down on the table and pushing them towards me.

"Thank you, sir." I smile widely.

Oh dear. I can feel Auntie Snixx about to make an appearance…

Poor man.

"The thing is, I can't help but think that was unnecessarily rushed and if I'm honest, pretty rude…"

The mans eyes grow impossibly wider.

"And I think that it would just be plain unfair of us if we threatened everyone on this train and you get to go away and tell all your friends that Santana Lopez was nothing but nice to you. Now that's rude." I sigh.

He whimpers-

BANG!

I stare at him, grinning like the devil as I lean toward him over the table. His breathing seems to have stopped.

Huh… Wasn't me.

I tighten my grip on the handle of my blade and slowly twist it back and forth until it springs free from the wood of the table…

Between the mans index and middle fingers.

I hear a disgusting swallowing sound and see that the man is breathing again.

"There, see? Equally threatened." I smile, pocketing all the loot I had earned from him.

Without looking for a response, I simply stroll past the man, Finn and into the next carriage.

I stop dead in my tracks.

What in the fuck...?

Brittany's the only person from my team in this carriage and she has four male passengers trying to grab at her.

I would offer my help but…

I don't think she needs it.

I watch as she expertly dodges one pair of hands by diving over the back of a booth, using her palms to push off the seat to swing her legs forward as she ploughs into another man, knocking him back into the man behind him.

Landing lithely back on her feet she whirls round to face a fella about a head taller than her and built like a wildebeest.

I'm not gonna lie, if I were her, I would have shouted for Puck and ran away or resorted to using my weapons.

She didn't even flinch.

Swiftly she brings her foot round in a large, graceful arc, solidly planting it into the man's temple.

Holy shit, she's flexible! Now's really not the time, but that building pressure is back… You know where…

The tall fella crumples to the ground in a heap. Well, he's down for the count.

The one who I had first saw make a grab for her tries again but she simply sidesteps his grapple and open-palm punches him in the face. There's a vile cracking and blood pours out in torrents as the man falls to his knees, screaming. He tries to hold onto his nose, as one does when one acquires an injury, but clearly it was broken and his screams only double.

The man who she had kicked down was back up again, as was the one he had bowled over in the process. The two were heading straight for her, fists raised, guarding their faces.

I see Brittany smirk.

Suddenly, Brittany launches herself into the air, her thick boot-clad feet coming up in two sharp, successive kicks.

Right to the gonads.

Both men keel over in agony, which Brittany took full advantage of. She grabs the one on the right by his ears and brings her knee straight up unto his head, knocking him unconscious. She turns to the last one and pummels a right uppercut up into his chest, the power of which sending him flying backwards.

All I can do is stare.

Until I start clapping slowly.

"I'm impressed." I say, my sincerity ringing through my voice. "Welcome to the gang. We'll celebrate later, but right now, let's get back to stealin' and let's get goin'!"

* * *

_So what did you think of the robbery guys? Drop a review! I wanna hear your favourite lines, your favourite part and your favourite chapter so far! And why! Thanks again for reading :D_


	6. Questions, Questions

**So guys! I've taken bloody long enough to get this sorted, haven't I? I'm sincerely sorry about that I've found myself forgetting how long it's actually been since I last updated and telling myself that I have time to get it done! I finally gave myself a kick up the arse and got round to getting this done though :D I'm still a little unsure about this chapter though, so tell me what you think!**

**Thank you all again for the reviews and alerts! After the last chapter I checked out the traffic stats for the story, and holy hell! Thanks guys! XD So many of you awesome readers take the time to read my work, so really, thank you!**

**CrimsonJoy! You gorgeous little Irish, you! Thank you for being the first to review on this ever! If you hadn't, we probably wouldn't be friends and working on our collaboration now, would we? ;) Must be fate, comrade!**

**Ptoricandblt, your amazingly long reviews are going to make me fall in love with you. Just hope you know that. Don't stop though! XD Yeah, Santana's sneaky, she had it planned ;) Aw good! I'm glad I got the intro right :D It's like, the most important part of their relationship right? Haha, no worries! I had my sleep, now to get my writin' awn! :D**

**nayalove, no worries my friend, Brittana comin' right up ;)**

**Alex Ryzlin Gold, the first person to point out the Red Dead Redemption connection XD How far in the game are you?**

**Cecizeta, you're in luck, I'm focusing more on them in this chapter ;) ANYONE's a goner! XD Aw man, Santana full stop is the hottest thing ever, so I'm glad I could reinforce that with her badassness ;)**

**To all else who have reviewed, thank you so much! I hope you enjoy this chapter :D**

_***Brittany's POV***_

After the success of the robbery, the gang, to which I now belong, is celebrating with vigour. We had built a bonfire the size of a small cabin and we now dance around it, singing our hearts out, swinging bottles of alcohol around carelessly.

I had felt guilty about fighting those men on the train. They were not criminals, they were just trying to defend their families and comrades. I knew Santana had been watching me though, so I could not avoid fighting them. If I had just dodged their advances and escaped with their money, she would have likely thought I was pathetic and that would definitely not help me get close to her.

However, the guilt subsided soon enough as another memory plagues my mind in its place.

She had been watching so intently. I had felt her eyes on me the whole time, never once looking away. I saw the look of awe upon her face, the admiration. I had decided that I could not waste the opportunity to attract her complete and unfailing attention.

Something had troubled me more though. While she was watching, I had felt something strange. I still cannot fathom what had made me feel the way I had. When I smirked as I finished off the last two men, it wasn't planned, it wasn't intentional and it wasn't acting. It scared me, if I'm honest. Why would I smirk? Was I enjoying hurting these innocents? The thought disgusted me. That would be against everything I stand for. I'm a bounty hunter, I capture outlaws to _protect _the innocent.

Or…

Was I enjoying the way Santana's eyes were quite obviously tracing over my body?

_That _thought had caught me off guard, to say the least. Why would I enjoy that? Clearly I enjoyed the idea of impressing her so that I could gain access to the crew of miscreants… But that wasn't it. I had felt that pleasure when I had taken down Puck. This was different.

The look in her eyes had almost made me lose my focus. They were a shade darker than normal, almost black, and slightly narrowed. Her brow had raised a little, silently questioning. Her full lips were slightly parted, appearing fuller than usual. Her cheeks were of a faint rose colour, blending smoothly with her tanned complexion.

Just a glance in her direction had heat blossoming up along my neck and across my own cheeks. I had felt a warm pressure spreading through my abdomen and my thighs. That is the only way I can describe it. It was unusual, alarming and frustrating.

I had to ignore this feeling though and keep my head in the fight. Santana's face had changed again, back to solely impressed. I used that as an excuse for myself as I smirked, unwilling to further ponder the sensation a glance from my enemy had caused.

Now I sit upon one of our makeshift benches placed around the perimeter of the fire, watching her silently through the flames opposite me. She is laughing along with Quinn, wildly waving her bottle of tequila around as she flails to stop herself from falling backwards. Her musical laugh engulfs my senses and I find myself relaxed by it's melodious notes.

_***Santana's POV***_

Quinn's impression of one of her victims has me laughing uncontrollably and I almost fall from my seat. It's funny enough when someone impersonates another of the opposite gender but it's absolutely hilarious when Quinn does it, her voice is just so feminine. I finally regain my balance but realise I have spilt an outrageous amount of my tequila over myself and automatically I frown.

Fuck! What a waste!

I'm searching around for something to mop up my neck and chest when suddenly a silky pale hand appears in front of my face, holding a rag out to me. I look up to find Brittany sitting to my other side, smiling gently at me.

"Well, that's an almost unforgiveable waste of tequila!" She chirps, smiling wider.

I'm staring at her now, still surprised by her abrupt appearance. Not one minute ago had I been throwing glances at her over the fire and now here she sits, right up in my face.

Her eyes appear to be trained on the alcohol that trickles down from my jawline, down my neck and to my chest, until she finally brings them back to meet mine. I realise I haven't said anything yet and her brows furrow slightly.

Still maintaining eye contact, she reaches up and starts to dab at the liquid on my jaw. I don't think she's actually aware of what she's doing, she's still looking into my eyes. It's unnerving, I feel like she's reading me, seeing so far into me that even if I look away now, it would be too late. She would have already seen my soul, the part of me I keep hidden from the rest of the world so desperately. So I don't look away, my eyes boring straight into the oceans of hers.

They're so bold, yet so delicate. I try to imagine that this is the first time I've ever seen her before and try to distinguish all that I see in them. Awe… Anger… Confusion… Sadness… Determination… Admiration… There's something else I can't quite define, but shouts out above the others, stealing the most attention.

I still don't think she fully realises where her hand is heading, but for the life of me, I just can't find the will to stop her. Her eyes widen and she subconsciously licks her lips when she slowly wipes the cloth down to my chest. The pads of her fingers brush ever so lightly over the curve of my breast. The possibility that the tequila has probably dried up by now and just sticks to my skin vaguely crosses my mind, but it doesn't register. All I can see are her cobalt orbs, staring into my dark ones. All I hear is my ragged breathing. All I feel is her touch against my skin and my heart pounding beneath her hand.

Her eyes widen again and she stops her movements. She coughs awkwardly and removes her hand.

"There, all gone now." She says hurriedly.

I blink, still unable to speak.

She quickly gets up and almost jogs away from me, leaving me dumbstruck.

I feel like people are always walking away from me.

_***Lucky Puck's POV***_

I'm sitting on a branch of one of the tall trees surrounding our camp. I had been silently watching the exchange between Santana and the new recruit, Brittany. I had seen how Brittany had been watching Santana before she got up to help her. I saw how she had taken an unnecessarily long time cleaning up Boss, how her eyes never left hers. I had scrutinised every emotion that crossed their faces. I could see how Santana froze when Brittany's hand skated over her skin.

And I don't like it.

There's something about that girl that I can't quite define, but it makes me feel on edge whenever she's near. It's not because she knocked me out good, either. Honestly, that had impressed me. But it got me thinking.

How does she know how to fight like that? I had been told about the fight on the train. Santana told me she was just a lonely pickpocket, she has no need to know how to fight like that. Where did she come from? She just appeared out of nowhere, straightaway asking to come with us. Why hasn't she told us her last name? Is she afraid of something?

I'm suspicious of her to say the least. I don't like the way she seems to zero in on El Capitano. What does she want from her? She hasn't exactly made the effort to communicate with the rest of us, other than apologising for her reaction to my orders from Santana to scare her. She just sits alone, quietly observing her surroundings, only coming out to play when directly spoken to.

Santana is still sitting where Brittany had left her, now staring into the flames, her brows furrowed. I can see the reflection of the fire in her eyes, her eyelids narrowed slightly. She looks deep in thought about something.

I don't want her thinking about Brittany. Not after the moment they had just shared. I want her to see Brittany clearly, the way I do, but I know that she won't have any of it. Stubborn as she is.

I climb down from my viewpoint and make my way back to the celebration. I'm going to stop her thinking about her. I walk over and throw myself down next to her and throw my arm around her, laughing. She snaps out of her trance, successfully distracted, and looks at me questioningly until she giggles with me.

I'm satisfied.

I'm going to be watching her and Brittany. I'm going to make sure Santana treats her the way she treats anyone who isn't myself or Quinn.

Whatever is going on between them, I don't like it. And if I can help it, they will not spend more time together than necessary.

* * *

_Ooohhh! Puck's gettin' suspiciouusss! What do you reckon guys? Leave a review, tell me what you think :) _


	7. It's What I Want

**Holy crap, this has taken me far too long -_-'... I got a mad case of writer's block this past two weeks. I had the plan for the chapter down, but it was like, finding the words to make the chapter you know? Anyhow, I'm sorry for that :( Thanks to all the alerts and favourites I've gotten guys :)**

**I think the reason I'm less keen on this chapter is because I'm too caught up with the next chapter, which I think will be undeniably better ;)**

**So! Read away comrades, enjoy!**

*_**Quinn POV**_*

Honestly, at first I was dubious about our new recruit, Brittany. She seemed to not pay a lot of attention during gang meetings, off in her own little world. She kept to herself a lot, only ever speaking when spoken to and when she needed someone to pass her water or something. She spent most of her time just observing from a little distance. If anything, it was unnerving.

But now? Now, I actually really like her. I didn't know what it was about her, maybe it's her mysterious ways or her large blue eyes, but something draws you in to her. I found myself talking to her more and more, attempting to draw her out of her shell. I don't think I've entirely completed that task just yet, but we are fast becoming friends.

Often, I join her by the fire and we talk about what lies ahead or our history. However, there is a mutual silence when a lot of aspects are touched upon. I do not reveal too much about my past, not even to Puckerman and I've never had a choice whether or not I wanted Santana to know, we've been friends since birth really.

I don't tell Brittany that the reason I had taken my parent's place at the tender age of fifteen was because they were captured by the Cheyenne and brutally savaged into non-existence. I don't tell Brittany that it was I who recovered their bodies, beaten and cut and left at the bottom of a waterfall and that I still have horrendously vivid nightmares about it. I don't tell anyone that.

But I can tell she is also hiding things.

One time, I asked about her parents and if they were proud that she was now a member of the notorious Lopez Gang. Her eyes had immediately widened, wild and angry, until a second later she squeezed them shut, her brows furrowed and her nostrils flared. I could hear her deep breaths as she tried to calm herself. Eventually she had opened her eyes, which had glistened with unshed tears as she took a shaky breath. Since then I have never come close to mentioning them again, I do not wish to upset her.

I've also noticed she has an interest in Santana, the purpose of which I cannot quite fathom but it seems to be mutual anyhow.

I often catch them swapping glances at each other, sometimes confused, sometimes curious, sometimes unreadable with a glassy gaze. It had me utterly perplexed but I've gotten used to it and I try to ignore it. It's not completely easy to brush off however, so I'll know if something changes.

_***Brittany POV***_

It's been two weeks since the bonfire and I've been determined to push all thoughts of it out of my head. What happened between Santana and I was… Confusing. I had felt all of these emotions running through me at a rapid pace, though lingering on anger and something else which when I try to define, the only conclusions I can conjure are admiration or some kind of hunger. Needless to say, I just get angry and violently throw those thoughts away. Why should I feel that undefined emotion? It's unnatural for the predator to be otherwise interested in the prey, only one thing should be on its mind.

The kill.

Santana and I have not spoken of the bonfire and I doubt we ever will. Since then there has been a tangible tension in the air around us when we talk, even when the conversation has to do with anything but just the two of us. I like it this way. It allows me to attempt to focus on my mission.

I watch her, observing her habits, her traits, everything about her. I memorise her features, allowing me to acknowledge her moods with ease. I learn the times in which she goes about her little routines. I learn that she dresses for each day; if we are to be robbing, she wears loose, black jeans and a black shirt; if we are to be drinking, she wears her scarlet dress; if simply travelling, casual blue jeans and a white shirt.

I like to think I know everything about her. I often find myself smirking, thinking how easy this will be. And I _will _do it. It's what my parents would have wanted. And even if it's not, it's what _I_ want.

_***Santana POV***_

She has the undeniable potential to go far with this gang, there is no doubt about it.

But Brittany is a damn distraction.

More times than I care to mention, I have caught myself staring at her, only to quickly look away as she turns to meet my eyes.

It's embarrassing.

What happened at the bonfire? Yeah, we don't talk about that, thank the Lord. Do I want to think about it, let alone talk about it? Hell no.

Can I help but think about it? Absolutely fucking no.

It's so frustrating! I don't want to think about it but at the same time it's the only thing I can think about! I try to focus on keeping the gang in line, on the robberies, on _anything _else, but every time blue meets brown, BOOM, memories of her fingertips ghosting over my breast come back to smack me in the face.

I see her talking to Quinn a lot and strangely, feel myself dying to know what they're talking about, to talk to her myself.

I know it's bad to think things like that and I desperately want to stop. I know it would help if I kicked Britt out of the gang altogether, but something keeps holding me back from taking that option too seriously.

Wait.

Britt?

… Apparently, now I'm giving her nicknames. That's never good…

But seriously, I feel like if I got rid of her, the gang would feel naked, as it were. She avoids making a spectacle of herself yet she has already made her presence known throughout the men and women.

She's good at this. She is an excellent marksman, often being the first to bring back some kind of animal from a hunt. We all know she's not someone to start a fight with, that's for bloody sure. She's quiet, yet when she speaks, she is always sure of herself. She is intelligent, but in a refreshing way. She isn't booksmart like Quinn, but she is thoughtful and knows all about animals and how to take care of them and how to expertly clean and patch up wounds.

Although for some reason I feel on edge around her, I like having her there. She keeps things interesting for me in her own way. I can't help but feel nervous, but calmed when she's near.

On a side note, I'm definitely looking forward to watching her next week.

Last night, Quinn, Puck and I made a plan to rob the bank in Armadillo. We love bank robberies, they demand less focus on setting up blockades and more focus on bursting the fuck in there, taking every cent we find, having a little fun and galloping away from the chasing sheriff and his boys.

If you've never done that, let me tell you, you ain't lived.

And if Brittany did that well robbing a train for the first time? I can't wait to see how she handles robbing a bank for the first time.

* * *

_Like I said, next chapter's gonna be more interesting ;) Please leave a review guys! They make me happy and motivate me to work quicker! XD_


	8. Revenge

**So Guys! Shit really goes down in this chapter!**

**And there's a reason for that...**

**Because this story hasn't been getting so many alerts, reviews or hits lately, I'm losing motivation to continue. Thing is, I can't bear to see a story incomplete, so I kinda sped things up a bit. If this chapter manages to get you guys' attention and approval then I can maybe try to extend it a bit. But we'll see...**

**I had originally written the plan for this chapter down in my notebook (The weather's been too good to sit inside on the computer lately) but I lost said notebook. But I really wanted to get this up so I went half by memory, half by what felt better.**

**Anyways, read, review, enjoy :D**

**Oh by the way, if you haven't already, check out I've Got You Under My Skin by CrimsonReno! That's me and my friend CrimsonJoy's story :)**

**As you were :)**

_**/**_

_**/**_

_***Santana POV***_

_**/**_

_**/**_

Today's the day of the bank robbery in Armadillo.

Do I even need to tell you how excited I am?

Honestly, I prefer bank robberies to train robberies. Trains are great when you need food or ammunition. But Banks? That's where the money is.

Lots of money.

Lots of money leads to lots of tequila, lots of rum and lots of gambling.

See what I mean? Banks are better.

At the moment I'm observing as the gang puts out the remaining embers of our camp fires scattered around the place. Last night we set up camp in one of the little canyons a few miles out of Armadillo, as Q, Puck and I agreed that it was our best place to come back to should the sheriff and his boys attempt to chase us afterward. The surrounding walls of rockface protecting us from the outside, with the only entrance being a gap in the cliffs of about ten feet, creating a funnel effect. This will be good for keeping out our enemies as we can steadily mow them down without having to really put much effort into it.

I spot Quinn and Brittany laughing together as they sit outside Quinns tent, loading their guns and sharpening their blades. I catch my lips quirking into a smile as I see Brittanys smile reach her eyes.

I've learned to just ignore the odd feelings she brings about, like I've said, they're distracting. So I just think nothing of them and try to put them aside. In fact I've grown comfortable having her around.

I've even considered promoting her so she comes just under Quinn and Puck, but when I ran that idea past them, Puck started to get angry and practically begged me not to, claiming he still doesn't trust her and that he doesn't know what it is about her, but he really doesn't like her.

I don't know what that's about but for now I'll leave it, let him get used to her.

I pull out my pocket watch and see that it's nearly noon and I can feel the excitement threaten to bubble over in my stomach.

I turn back to Puck and tell him to get the men to hurry up.

/

/

_***Puck POV***_

_**/**_

_**/**_

As I spread the word about our imminent departure I can't help but think about Santana and the way she was just looking at Quinn and Brittany.

She had had a relaxed little smile on her face as she gazed at the taller blonde across the camp. I'm still not sure about Brittany and I vehemently refused Santanas considering her promotion, but I haven't yet said anything to her about my suspicions.

I want to confront Brittany herself, but I know that I will get a bollocking from Santana if I don't have sufficient evidence to support my suspicions so I've decided to just observe her for a while longer.

I'll admit, I'm less concerned about her than I was a few weeks ago. She hasn't done anything to alert me. In fact, she's coming out of her shell a bit. Quinn has quickly befriended her, strangely, and Brittany's become much more talkative. She hasn't had any more odd encounters with Boss since the bonfire either, which is definitely good.

For her sake.

/

/

_***Brittany POV***_

_**/**_

_**/**_

"This one time, I was in Armadillo and when I was in the saloon I challenged Sheriff Will to a game of blackjack. He was so drunk! He tried to trick me into thinking he had put all of his money in the pot when I won but I'm smarter than he thought," I wink at Quinn as I told her the lie. "After the game was over, he went stumbling over to the bar and when he tripped over a stool, I caught him to steady him. Or so he thought! I actually took the remaining fifteen dollars out of his pocket! You should have seen his face when he couldn't pay the bartender!" I laugh, trying to make the story as real as possible.

Quinn absolutely roars with laughter. She hates Sheriff Will, something to do with the last time the gang was in Armadillo a few months ago.

"Good! Bastard deserves it!" She chuckles out.

I grin at her fondly. I know I convinced myself I was never going to befriend an outlaw, but Quinn is actually really nice. We've connected, I think, over the fact that our childhoods were snatched away from us so terribly. We haven't elaborated upon how that is, but I think that adds to our bond really.

There's absolutely no way I'm telling her my story, and I highly doubt she will tell me hers. I respect that and even if she has done countless sinful things in her life, I'm not going to push her to tell me.

I should hate her. She's a thief, a murderer and God knows what else. But I honestly can't stop myself from seeing past that. She just draws you in. It's intriguing really.

After Puck tells us all to mount up, Quinn goes over to ride next to Santana and for a moment I feel kinda of rejected. Then she waves me over to join them and I feel a grin spread over my face as I ride up to them.

Puck doesn't look happy, on the other side of Santana, but doesn't say anything.

I've noticed him watching me watching Santana a lot lately so I've toned that activity down a bit and used Quinn's attention to deter his glares. I think it may have worked but I'm still being extra careful around him. I don't want him to ruin my plan now, do I?

I hear Santana chuckle darkly but before I can look over, she's already speeding ahead, Puck and Quinn quickly recovering and hot on her heels. The rest of the gang whizzes past and I hear Quinn shout, asking if I can keep up.

I smirk and encourage Archer to go faster and he comfortably pulls past the others and we reach the leaders. I ride alongside Quinn, with Puck a little behind and Santana a few meters ahead.

"Let's put your riding to the test!" Santana laughs over her shoulder to me and again she increases her speed.

My smirk grows and I ask Archer to go yet even faster until I'm next to Santana, laughing happily.

I see her face falter a little but instantly determination imprints her features.

I'm completely relaxed and Archer's breathing hasn't even become the slightest bit laboured yet.

I give him a gentle squeeze with my legs as we reach the outskirts of town and win the race by around six meters before skidding to a halt. I laugh jovially and give my steed a loving pat and scratch behind his ears, congratulating him for his effort.

Santana pulls up next to me, grumpily agreeing that I won fair and square and I can't help my exhilarated giggle.

"I'm not sorry." I grin at her.

She huffs but smiles back, which makes me smile wider.

When everyone has caught up and dismounted, Santana organises everyone into three groups; herself leading one, Puck another and Quinn the last. For some reason, she called me out for her group first.

Our group is to take the front entrance, Pucks the rear and Quinns the only side of the building with windows.

The streets are busy with townspeople and travellers, allowing us to weave through the civilians and remain inconspicuous as we make our way to the banks main entrance.

As we gather around the porch, I expect there to be a count but Santana just strolls right on in as if we are here for genuine service, and we follow her instinctively.

"Ladies and gents! Could everyone please stop what they are doing, as this is a stick up?" She casually shouts over the hum of customer conversation and immediately, the room is overcome with silence

All heads turn to us and in the corner of my eye, I notice the rest of our group fill out along the span of the wall, blocking the entrance and the three windows. Possible customer escape number one, covered.

Santana innocently plays with her gun, twirling it a few times on her index finger and the rest of us take our own weapons out. I can see the glint of sunlight reflecting off a few blades, bouncing around the ceiling and paling faces.

One of the two men behind the counter panics and makes a run for the back door. A loud thud breaks the silence and a second later Puck comes through, dragging the man by the hair as his men trail in behind him, a few staying behind to guard the door.

Before anyone else can get any ideas, Quinn and her unit break the windows at her side of the bank and vault through the frames, again they spread along the wall, blocking those possible escape routes.

"As I was saying, this is a stick up. If everybody could please place all objects that can be used as or are any kind of weapon, place them on the ground now."

Three guns and five knives clatter to the floor.

"Good. Now," Santana makes her way to the counter, her gun still effortlessly twirling on her finger. "Put all the money into a sack, every last cent." She sneers.

With a sudden burst of courage, or stupidity, the banker sneers back and whirls around to take the Winchester rifle from the wall behind him.

Before he can even brush his fingertips over the cool metal, the resounding clicks of around thirty rifles and pistols cocking echoes throughout the bank.

The man freezes and slowly recoils, turning back to Santana.

I can see from her profile that she is wearing her infamous smirk as she reaches out her hand and motions with her thumb and forefinger to hand over the money.

Suddenly, a woman breaks under the suspense, screaming and running towards me, clearly intent on pushing past us to the door. The man who I assume is her husband shouts and chases her.

"Britt, Q, grab 'em." Santana drones without looking over her shoulder, eyes trained on the banker.

Before the man can reach his wife, I grab him and Quinn grabs the woman, dragging her, kicking and screaming, to stand next to me. She takes out her knife and holds it to the woman's throat, immediately silencing her pleas for release. Quinn looks to me, nodding her head for me to do the same.

Hesitantly I push the barrel of my pistol to the man's temple and he also shuts up. I can feel my weapon tremble slightly as my nerves start to get the better of me. I can't afford to appear weak, so I push the gun slightly harder into his head.

"Search them." Santana commands.

Finn and another man I know to be Dave Karofsky step forward and pat down the couple, digging in every pocket and returning with thirty dollars, a pipe, matches and tobacco.

"I'll be having that," Karofsky grins, pocketing the smoking materials.

The woman whimpers in protest, tears streaming down her cheeks from her wide, emerald eyes.

Quinn grunts and presses her blade harder to her neck and I gulp when I see a trickle of blood escape down her skin.

… _My heart was frantic, my blood pounded through my ears, a lump sat in my throat, making it hard to breathe. I wanted to look away but hands held my face so I could only face my parents. I watched as the faceless man pulled his gun to my father's head and another held a knife to my mother's throat…_

Oh God… Oh God, oh God, oh God. Please, I can't be remembering that right now! Not here!

Sweat forms upon my brow, my lip trembles, I swallow hard.

I can see Puck frowning at me, his head tilted to the side slightly.

I try to ignore him and try to get a hold of myself but it's hard.

My fingers twitch, my heart pounds, a drop of perspiration slides down my temple.

Quinn has noticed now and from the corner of my eye I can see her also scrutinising me.

A loud ringing overwhelms my hearing, drowning out all other sound. My stomach turns, nausea steadily flowing through me. My head feels uncomfortably light.

I see Santana turn around, two sacks of money in hand. I see her mouth move but I can't hear what she says. Men who aren't blocking an exit make their forward into the crowd of customers and start checking pockets.

Santana turns to Quinn and I and her lips move again.

Quinn grabs a firm hold on the woman's hair and wrenches her head back, sneering as she brings the blade a little higher and presses once again, another flow of blood escaping, falling faster than the other.

… _There was a gut wrenching bang and a blood curdling slice and my parents were lying on the floor in front of me, in pools of red mingling together…_

I suddenly lose my balance and stumble backwards, my gun slipping from my grasp.

That memory was so _vivid _as it had flashed through my mind. It had felt as if I was experiencing it all over again.

A whimper bursts from my throat and I choke out a sob. I feel my head shake erratically as my wide eyes stare at the back my victim's head.

…_I felt sick. I felt dizzy. My heart was pounding against my ribcage too hard. My blood was surely past boiling point_. _My head felt too light. My breath hitched as I tried to suck down more air. I felt weak…_

I can feel all eyes on me now, burning inquisitive holes all over me.

I can't take this…

I turn and throw myself between Azimio and Nelson, pushing off them to propel myself through the door.

The sunlight burns my eyes and I almost trip in my temporary blindness.

I inhale deep breaths and run as fast as I can back to Archer. When I reach him, I vault his rear and mount the saddle as I had that time in the field before all this happened.

He neighs but before I even have to ask, he takes care of the rest, sprinting away from the bank, from the town, from everyone.

I let the tears fall freely now, my eyes stinging as I hold on for dear life, the wind whipping my hair around, my knuckles going white from my tight grip on the reins.

I can't get their faces out of my head. Their panicked expressions, my mothers tear stained cheeks and red eyes.

Blood.

Red.

Everywhere.

My heart hurts. It feels as if someone has physically ripped it from my chest.

After about two miles I ask Archer to slow to a stop and with what little energy I have left, I slide down from the saddle and practically crawl to a large rock nearby, hidden in the shade under a small cliff.

I collapse down onto it, bringing my knees up to my chest, hugging them tightly as I bury my face between them, rocking back and forth.

I am so far past sobbing. My breaths come out weak, broken and desperate and my eyes are so swollen from crying, I keep them closed because really, it would make no difference.

I listen as Archer saunters over and sob harder when he nudges my leg with his nose. He snorts in disapproval when I don't look up at him.

"It hurts…" I mumble through my tears.

He snorts again and whinnies lightly before cutting himself off suddenly.

I look up and see him staring in the direction we had just come. I hear the sound of hooves and I panic.

Nobody can see me like this!

I quickly make a serious effort to control my breathing, wiping my eyes on my sleeve and attempt to banish all memories from my mind.

I close my eyes as I take one more deep, shuddering breath.

When I open them again, I see Santana in front of me, sitting atop Sapphira.

"Brittany! What the hell happened? What's wrong?" Her voice is a mix of annoyance and concern.

I bite down on my lower lip to stop it from trembling and sniff.

_Keep them back, Brittany. Don't let her see your tears._

Her face falls when she sees this and she hops down from her horse, her next words saturated with pure concern.

"Britt, what's wrong? What happened? You were handling everything great but then…" She trails off as my features shift.

I can't help it.

I growl as anger overwhelms me. Anger and hatred.

This is because of her. Because of her God _damned _family! This is the reason I'm here!

With the memories of my mother's and father's last moments still fresh in my mind, I stalk over to Santana, grunting for an answer, and stand so close to her, our faces are merely centimeters apart. I watch as my heavy breathing blows her hair out of her widened eyes, rage filling my system.

Her defence kicks and she reaches for her blade at her belt, but I catch her wrist and grip it hard.

"You want to know what happened?" I growl. "You want to know why I'm being like this?"

She nods, the fear that's written across her face disabling her ability to talk.

"Your parents happened. I'm being like this because _they _slaughtered _my _mother and father _right _in front of my _face _when I was _thirteen years old_!" I seethe.

I can feel my face heat up and my lips quirk into a sneer.

I've never seen Santana Lopez ever look so scared.

Good.

She has every reason to be.

As quick as lightning, I whip out my own blade and hold it to her jugular. I take a step forwards, forcing her to take a step back. I keep going until I have her backed up against the rock I had been sitting on.

She whimpers.

Santana Lopez fucking whimpers.

I can only laugh.

"My name is Brittany Pierce. When I was thirteen years of age my parents, William and Bonnie Pierce, were murdered by Carlos and Maria Lopez in my own home, less than six feet away from me. I was held down and forced to watch. My father was shot in the head and my mother's throat was slit. The town sheriff took care of me, training me until I was eighteen, when I left to become a bounty hunter. I swore to myself that I would make my family's murderers feel the pain I've felt all these years. Then a month ago I heard about their untimely demise and almost gave up.

"But then I realised that even though they may be dead, my parents still hadn't been avenged. And I wanted _so _badly for them to be avenged. So I convinced you to let me into the gang. My plan was to gain your trust and kill you in your sleep. But then Puck got in the way and started watching me like a hawk. I had to keep my distance and be patient, thinking it would be a while before I got my chance. But look! Things change! Here we are, with my blade to your skin, your life hanging in the balance!"

I laugh louder at her frozen state, mirthlessly.

"Fuck…" She breathes, her whole body slumping in defeat.

She no longer looks terrified merely exhausted. There is no fight left in her. She sighs.

"Go on then. Do it," She says. "You want my life so bad? Take it."

Her sudden lack of care takes me by surprise. I hesitate, my blade completely still.

"I said take it!" Santana shouts, suddenly gripping my wrist and forcing my dagger harder into her skin.

I flinch, surprised and pull it away a few millimetres.

My heart is pounding as I study her face.

Her eyebrows are furrowed, forming a small crease between. Her dark eyes are set like steel, narrowed and staring deep into my own. Her lips are pressed into a thin line, her nostrils flared and her cheeks are a light crimson.

My heart skips a beat. Maybe two.

I can't.

I can't kill her.

My mind goes blank.

I don't think about what I'm doing.

My dagger clatters to the hard ground at our feet.

I take one more step towards her and grab her face in both hands.

And my lips collide with hers.

* * *

_Made it a long one for you guys ;D What did you think? Continue, or no? Review!_


	9. Puzzle Piece

**Holy crap! Did you guys know the total reviews for this story practically doubled after the last chapter? Thank you so much! :D**

**I'm mad sorry it's taken me this long to update! I've been super busy with extra shifts at work and designing the cover for this and not knowing how the hell to write Santana's reaction to the kiss.. I was out tonight but after StraightShark reviewing again just to get me to get it done faster, I have now finished this chapter at 03:37am.. I have work at 07:30.. It's my own fault XD Thank you all again so much for reviewing and favouriting and alerting!**

**By all means, please continue with that ;)**

**As you were, comrades!**

**/**

**/**

***_Santana POV*_**

**__**/

/

"_..Here we are, with my blade to your skin, your life hanging in the balance!"_

_I watched as she laughed at me. Still frozen in shock, I couldn't think how to react to the sudden turn of events._

_Pierce... I knew that name! A few years ago one of the older men in the gang told me about a Pierce family and a 'debt' they had to pay. I was also told that my mother had spared their daughter, a move that was controversial, in the eyes of the men…_

"_Fuck…" I breathed as my shoulders caved._

_After every bad thing I've done, something like this was bound to happen. If not now, it'll happen eventually…_

"_Go on then. Do it," I said. "You want my life so bad? Take it."_

_I knew I should have felt scared, angry, upset, anything. But all I could feel were guilt and hatred._

_I felt the guilt of her past as if it had been I who killed her parents and ruined her life. I felt hatred towards my parents. How could anyone take away what mattered most to Brittany, what made her happy? The thought of her watching her parents killed by mine makes me sick. But most of all? I felt hatred for myself. I felt as if it were somehow my fault that Brittany was left an orphan at the young age of thirteen. If it weren't for me, she wouldn't have been made to live without her parents._

_That hits me hard. The thought of Brittany not living actually causes a stab of pain in my chest, even if she wants to kill me._

_Another thought has me determined._

_If she had waited any longer for this moment, anything could have happened. Almost every day the gang gets into fights and injuries are common. If she got hurt… If she got killed…_

_If she gets this over with she can leave, never to see the gang again and continue with her life, her parents avenged. She can be as safe as she was before…_

_I die, she lives._

_Brittany hesitated, her blade stilled over my skin. _

"_I said take it!" I shouted. I quickly grasped her wrist roughly and pulled her dagger harder to my skin. The razor-sharp edge contrasted starkly with the soothing cool of the metal._

_She flinched and tried to pull away, but with my grip still on her she could only pull away about a centimeter. If anything, that angered me more. I hated my family and myself in that moment. I deserved what Brittany had planned. _

_My heart hammered my ribs, my blood thudded in my ears and adrenaline raced through my veins._

_I watched impatiently as she stared at me._

_Why the hell didn't she just do it already?_

_Her cobalt eyes were wide with shock, as I know my espresso ones had been earlier. Her light brows were raised slightly in a high frown. Her fair skin paled further, she looked sick almost. Her rose lips were pushed together into a slight, subconscious pout._

_My heart skipped a beat. Maybe three._

_I couldn't look away, my anger faded._

_She was so beautiful…_

_No other thought registered as I stared into her eyes._

_I didn't even pay attention to when her weapon hit the ground, the hilt hitting the toe of my boot._

_I couldn't even tell my feet to move when she stepped even closer to me._

_I couldn't even tell my lungs to breathe when she held my face in both hands._

_I couldn't even tell my eyes to open when they fell shut._

_And I couldn't tell my lips not to sink into hers when they met mine._

* * *

If I had hoped that any thought process I might try to conjure would be coherent, I would have been sorely disappointed. The only thought that makes its way through to me is how perfectly our lips fit together. As Brittany caresses my top lip, I gently suck on her pouty lower one.

After what felt like forever, but must have only been seconds, I feel her tongue glide slowly across her captive and my lips part, meeting it half way with my own tongue. Amidst our heavy breathing, a moan sounds out loudly but I'm unable to determine which one of us emitted it.

Her hands still hold my face firmly but softly at the same time, not letting me go. I never want to let go. I reach for her hips and pull her closer, losing myself as she engulfs my senses. Her body falls flush against mine and I feel her chest expand and contract as her heavy breaths have her lungs working hard.

One of her hands reaches around to the nape of my neck, tangling in my hair, pulling me and my lips closer than I would have thought possible. My grip on her hips slips up to her waist and tightens, holding her there.

Eventually we break apart, only to rest our foreheads against each other, breathing so hard the relief of air is almost painful. I feel heat spread along my cheeks as I stare into her azure eyes and notice the indiscreet blush across hers. My eyes fall closed and my lips twitch upwards at the corners.

Until I remember she had been trying to kill me.

And that apparently, I'm turning into a fucking poet.

I bring my hands up and push her away roughly.

"What the _hell _was that?" I scream at her.

Sure, in the moment, I had wanted her to kill me, because I felt guilty. But fuck, that moment's gone. I let her in, shattering the walls I had built to protect myself.

Well guess what, brick by brick, these walls are coming back up faster than a mountain lion takes down a jackrabbit.

"Uh- I don't-… Huh?" Brittany stutters, her eyes so wide I'm almost worried they're going to burst.

"You _kissed _me! Women don't kiss each other! It's a sin!"

She laughs. She actually fucking laughs.

"A sin? Shall I remind you who you are? You're _Santana Lopez! _You kill, you steal, you fight, you look the other way when your men rape and pillage! You think kissing a woman would make much difference to God's judgement?" She snarls.

I'm speechless. What on earth do I say to that?

I'll admit though…

… She has a point.

"So you think that just because I'm a sinner, you can be another sin to add to my collection?" I snarl right back once I have found my words.

"No. I kissed you not because I wanted to be another sin, but because it felt right. I gave up on my faith long ago, 'God' can think what he likes, because I stopped believing there was such a thing when I was thirteen years old." She says evenly, never breaking eye contact.

"It felt right? Well you should have just slit my throat and be done with it. To me it felt nothing but wrong."

…

Well, that was a fucking lie.

And that lie hurt even me.

Why did I lie?

The way she made me feel scares me. Nobody has ever made me feel so whole, like I was a puzzle long given up on because one final piece was missing, but finally, I uncovered that last piece and fitted it right where it was meant to be… Supposed to be... Destined to be…

Just from a kiss, Brittany makes me feel like that. I've never _ever _felt that with anyone. Not Puck, not Adams, not Nelson, nobody. Just with Britt.

I watch as distinct pain washes over her features and I swear I feel it too.

BOOM.

BANG.

THUD.

Hear that?

That's what's left of my walls, crashing down harshly, brick by solid brick.

The sight of her sadness makes me feel like that puzzle piece is being ripped slowly, agonisingly from my chest.

That can't happen.

Call me selfish, but if this is what it feels like seeing her upset, then I will do everything in my power to make her smile again. Always.

I take two long strides towards her and envelope her into my arms, burying my face in her blonde tresses, smelling her beautiful scent.

I feel her whole body tense up in shock but after a few seconds she relaxes completely, letting out a long, shaky breath.

Her arms glide upwards and wrap around my waist, desperately holding me close.

It feels nothing but right as I wait for her breathing to even out, slowly stroking the palm of my hand over the back of her head, brushing my fingers through her hair.

When I know she's as calm as she can be right now, I pull back a little and press a light kiss to her forehead, my lips lingering there.

"I'm sorry…" I whisper, my lips ghosting over her skin and she shivers a little.

She nods gently, careful not to perturb our position and sighs, holding me tighter.

I laugh quietly, shaking my head a little.

"What has become of us? At first I was dubious about you, then you wanted to kill me, which I wanted you to do and now… Now I don't ever want to be without you…" I sigh.

She pulls back to look at me, a smile dancing upon her lips and I feel my own curling upwards.

Told you I'd get her to smile.

Just sayin'…

"And ever since I were a child, I wanted to kill you. Then I met you. The want was always there, always, but…" She trails off, searching for words. "There was always something about you that kept me from doing it… I didn't know what it was. Whether it was your startling beauty or your hypnotising laugh, I don't know… But I do know that now I have felt a touch of how your lips feel, a taste of them… The feel of your heart against mine… And I never want to leave your side. Ev- Oompf!"

Were you looking to know the rest of her beautiful, heart-warming, loving speech?

Tough.

Sorry, I couldn't help myself.

Hah! That was another lie, I'm totally not sorry.

I have to hold her up as she melts into my kiss, sighing contentedly. I grin hugely, loving the effect I have on her already.

I laugh again, louder and freer than before, grinning up to the sky. This isn't the kind of happiness I'm used to, this is off the charts!

I feel like I'm floating on the highest cloud, breathing in the coldest, freshest air, and screaming to the world that they'll never be as happy as I am in this moment. And I don't even understand it!

I look back down to Britt who has the same smile stretching her pretty lips, reaching her eyes.

Do I know why I feel this way? No.

Do I know what on earth just happened? Nope.

Do I remember what it felt like before this elation crashed down on me? Hah! Nope!

Do I think I could handle this all the time? Bring it on.

I lean forward and pepper Brittany's face with little kisses before pulling back completely and just taking her hand in mine.

"Come on, let's go join the chase." I wink at her.

"Chase?" Her brow furrows, creating a cute little wrinkle in the middle.

"Oh yeah," I say seriously, although I know my eyes are probably twinkling mischievously. "Big chase. Sheriff Shue's gone crazy about the robbery and got all his boys on the case. He was running to the bank when I left, Puck and Quinn took our boys and are heading west. I told them we'll meet them at Rio Bravo, but I know a shortcut, just so we can have a little fun." I wink again.

"Well what are we waiting for?" She laughs and takes her hand back. She sets off running and jumps, literally jumps, onto Archer. "Come on, Slow Coach!"

Impressed as I am, I still have to be more impressive.

What can I say? I'm a proud person.

I bring my index finger and thumb up to my mouth and whistle loudly and clearly. Sapphira comes cantering around the corner from where she wandered off to. I trained her to do that whenever I dismount. She stays close by, but hidden. She comes running only if there's a threat or if I call her.

I pull myself up into the saddle, smirking.

"A race then! But this time, you can't win, because I have to show you where to go!" I laugh heartily, seeing the false dismay on her face. "Let's go!"

* * *

Sooooo! What did you guys think? Leave a review and let me know, you sexy little things, you! ;D


	10. The Chase

**Well, ho..ly.. Crap! This has taken me bloody long enough! I'm so sorry guys! I lost my mojo D: I've had insaane writer's block and just haven't been able to shake it D: I still don't think I've completely shaken it, personally, but I decided enough was enough and that even if it killed me, I'd get this update out to you guys! Shout out to CrimsonJoy, my lovely little Irish, for kicking me up the arse to get this done XD**

**I have another idea for a fic, so you may see another Brittana one pop up soon. But I will try to stay on top of this one too!**

**Oh! That reminds me, I have a bad habit of not fully planning out stories when I write them, so if you guys have any suggestions or scenes you'd like to read, give me a shout in a review or PM and I'll do my best to make it happen :D**

**Anyways, hope you like it guys :D Please leave a review, follow, favourite, whatever you fancy :D**

**/**

**/**

**/**

***Santana POV***

/

/

Riding side by side with Britt, racing across the empty expanse of dry desert land, playfully over taking each other every now and then, I don't remember ever feeling this free. Under the beating sun, as free as I always felt before, I only now realise that I was always conscious of the weight of responsibility on my shoulders that comes with inheriting the leadership of a notorious band of outlaws. Riding with Brittany and only Brittany, I no longer feel the heavy ties I've been burdened with. When I watch her ride, she truly is the definition of free. It's just her, Archer and the ground beneath their feet. It's infectious! It feels so good to finally let go, even if it's only for a little while.

To finally come to terms with how I feel about Britt, that's truly freeing. I can openly admit to myself that seeing her so happy, with the wind blowing wildly through her hair and her eyes shining brightly as her amazing smile stays printed upon her face, is the most beautiful sight I've ever seen.

What are we now? Are we together? How does this work? There're just so many questions, but you know what? I'm not even the slightest bit frustrated about being clueless, for right now at least. But I'm more of an in-the-moment kind of person anyway.

"Hey! Would you get out of your head for a minute? I think I see Shue and his boys!" Brittany's voice snaps me out of my train of thought and I look ahead to where she's pointing.

About three hundred yards to our one o' clock, I see eight or so men on horseback heading in the direction of Rio Bravo. I shake my head.

_Clearly Puck and Quinn need to work on their evasive riding…_

I turn to Britt and wink.

"I know you're not really a criminal and you don't want to hurt innocents and all that, but how does having a little anti-law fun sound?"

"I've never liked Sheriff Shue," She laughs. "But as long as you're beside me, I don't care what you have planned."

I grin broadly, that was the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me. Which, thinking about it, doesn't really say much about the people I live with, considering this isn't exactly the most extraordinary thing to do…

I know fine well that the men all know exactly who I am, but I like to keep up the image of Santana The Red Bandana'd Bandit.

_God, I hope nobody actually refers to me as Santana The Red Bandana'd Bandit... That's just taking the piss…_

As I reposition the cloth and pull the brim of my hat down, I see Brittany pull her blue bandana over her own nose and mouth. I've never actually seen her wear it before, so I assume she's borrowing it from Quinn. Lord knows Q's got enough bandanas to supply the entire gang, in every colour under the sun. I roll my eyes.

_Hoarder._

Britt and I share a glance and a nod before increasing our speed to catch up with the men, staying at least ten feet behind. They haven't heard us over the noise of their shouts and horses and we don't make ourselves known just yet.

_Christ, they're louder than my lot. At least my boys can be sneaky…_

Two of them are riding a bit behind the rest, unable to fit between the ranks. I reach down to my saddle and close my fingers around the coil of rope by my right knee. I hold it up so Britt can see my intentions and wink when she also grabs hers. I can see the corners of her eyes crinkling and I know she's smiling too.

Using my thighs to steer Sapphira, I hold the looped end of my lasso in my left hand as I twirl it above my head and loosely hold onto the rest of the coil with my right. Once Brittany has hers going too, I hold up three fingers of my right hand, easily keeping hold of the coil, and count the off as we aim.

_Three… Two… One!_

At the same time, both our lassos flick out of our hands and successfully catch the two stragglers.

_Yes!_

Before they have a chance to think, the loops of rope close in around their arms and bodies and with a sharp tug, we pull them backwards off of their horses. I quickly snatch my knife from my belt and cut the rope so I can save the rest, that shit's useful. Racing past the bodies rolling fast in the dusty dirt, I laugh as we each give them the middle fingered salute.

The other men miraculously didn't even hear all that raucous, still shouting and thundering ahead. I feel Brittany ride up closer beside me and I can't help but smile when I hear her voice.

"They're either deaf, or not very intelligent." She sighs.

"I don't know, but either works for me." I giggle. "Follow my lead."

I encourage Sapphira to run faster until we've taken the places of the last two men at the back of the group, Brittany keeping up and joining easily.

The men's voices can be heard easily now that we're practically right next to them.

"This is it boys! This is our chance to catch Santana Lopez and her gang!" Will Shuester laughs, manically. "We've waited a long time for this opportunity, but this time, we _will _catch her!"

"That dastardly fiend!" Surprised, I look to my side and see Brittany grinning behind her mask as she shouts. "That she-devil is harder to catch than a puff of smoke!"

I laugh so hard, I can't even make a sound! I wave my hand about ridiculously as I try to catch my breath, my eyes squeezed shut.

They all shout in agreement to Brittany's words, shaking their fists in the air and growling.

I'm gonna go with the earlier assumption that these men aren't the brightest.

They didn't even realise that Britt's voice is too feminine to be one of theirs.

"Thank you, my dear! I do try!" I reply jovially, a single tear escaping as I struggle to contain my laughter.

The men's backs stiffen and a brief silence settles before being replaced by curses, screamed in frustration. Simultaneously, they all look over their shoulders to see us riding within spitting distance of them, snarling when Britt and I wave and tip our hats to them.

"What are you waiting for?! Get them you idiots!" Shuester commands, slowing down.

Some of his boys skid to a halt, the others turn in a wide arc to come up behind us. But we never slowed down, so we speed on ahead, whizzing past the whole crowd and leading them South West, away from Rio Bravo.

I hear Shue's almost agonised shouts of anger fill the air as we get a good twenty yards between us and them in a matter of seconds.

I hear a loud bang and feel the air change against my ear as a bullet screams past me, causing me to flinch like an idiot and flail for the reins.

"_Fuck _me!" I breathe heavily. "Oi! Whoever the fuck that was! That nearly got me!" I scream to the group, knowing it would rile them up.

"Good!" I hear. "Maybe next time it won't be 'nearly'!"

"Maybe!" I snigger.

* * *

I genuinely think Will should either train his boys better, find new ones, or just give up his career altogether. It took us probably ten minutes maximum to lose them. Once we reached the cliffs of Riley's Charge, it was as simple as downing a shot. I thoroughly enjoyed myself, aggravating Shue with Britt. We should do it again sometime.

I can see the gang waiting anxiously in the small valley of Rio Bravo as we trot up the slight slope towards them.

"Afternoon, boys! Miss us?" I holler when we reach the crowd.

Everyone rushes towards us, shouting their relief and concern.

"What happened?"

"Are you hurt?"

"Where's Will?"

I don't have time to answer anybody as Quinn comes to the front, glaring at anybody who protests.

"Santana, Brittany, are you two okay?"

Once again, we don't have time to answer because Puck pushes past her and points his dirty finger at Brittany.

"I knew it! I knew I couldn't trust you! After what happened back there, I have no doubt in my mind that you are hiding something-!"

During his little speech, Puck had made his way towards Britt and had made to pull her off of her saddle. What stopped him were the sound of a gun cocking and the push of a barrel against the back of his head.

"Stay the fuck away from her, Geronimo." The snarl rips from my throat.

"Santana! She's been lying to us! Using us! I know it!" Puck says, surprisingly steadily.

"So do I." I reply simply.

"What?"

"Her name is Brittany Pierce and she came here to avenge her parents by killing me. As you can see however, she has not done so."

"Pierce… The bounty hunter?" Finn pipes up, out of God only knows where.

"Huh… I hadn't thought too much on that particular detail…" I say thoughtfully.

"If you knew all of this Lopez, why the fuck haven't you killed her first?" Not-so-Lucky Puck demands. His hands are still raised and he's still glaring at Brittany, who says nothing.

"Because if I kill her, I might as well kill myself while I'm at it." I answer coolly.

An eerie silence fills the air as nobody knows quite what to say to that.

Britt smiles at me shyly, which I softly return.

"Now Puckerman, if you still have a problem with Britt, you will leave. Savvy?" I growl.

Not a single muscle is moved nor a single sound made for a seemingly long minute.

Finally someone moves, but it's not the reaction I had actually anticipated.

Puck steps away from Brittany and the wrong end of my gun and walks towards his horse. He climbs on and rides over to me, his steely gaze unfailingly boring into my eyes. He gives me a sharp nod.

"Be safe, Santana."

And with that he rides away…

I don't know what to think.

I don't know what to do.

One of the closest people in my life just left me because I chose to trust who he didn't.

I don't even know what I'm feeling.

Hurt. Anger. Betrayal. Anguish. Denial. Disbelief.

Broken.

Everyone silently watches him go, not one hundred per cent sure what just happened.

I act without thinking and I'm shouting unintelligible words and spurring Sapphira on, racing in the opposite direction through the valley. The next thing I know I've followed the trail to the top of the cliff, staring out over the surrounding desert. I can't see much, the sun set a while ago, but I can see the form of one lone rider in the distance.

A sob bubbles from my throat and a few tears escape my eyes.

I can't believe he would actually leave me. Along with Quinn, we're best friends. We would lay down our lives for each other. If there were anyone I could count on to have my back, it would have been him…

Another louder sob emits from my mouth as I feel a light hand on my shoulder and a gentle touch on my cheek. I look up to see Brittany and Quinn on either side of me, both wearing sad expressions.

I'm not about to cry in front of them. I'm not about to cry in front of anyone.

I take a deep, shaky breath and hastily wipe away the tears

"I'm fine," I reassure them.

And as I lied, I felt my heart break and sink.

* * *

_Sooooo... What did you think? Good Chase? Good bit of drama? Puck finally confronted Britt but now he gooonne! Do you think he regrets it? Please leave a review, tell me all, comrades!_


	11. Well, That Was Relatively Easy

**Oh my buh-jesus! This chapter, for some reason, was just so much harder to write than the others! I'm so sorry for taking ages, again! This past month's been busy! I turned 18 (;D), got a tattoo (Which, if I get round to it, will actually be a part of my next fic XD), I started college so I'm not on my laptop as much anymore because we're always out and about filming or staying late in the video edit suite. Oh! And I actually wrote the next chapter before this one! I think that's maybe why this one was a bitch to write... But yeah! So the next chaper won't be long, comrades!**

**Please review, my lovelies, it would be very much appreciated!**

**.**

**.**

**Santana POV**

**.**

**.**

Simply put. I miss Puck like hell. In detail? I feel like a chapter in my life has been left abandoned, the last few pages left blank. I feel like no matter how hard and fast I may have run, the train left the station without me. He may have only been my friend for a year, but in that time he became my brother, my best friend next to Quinn. And now he's gone. He's gone and he's probably never coming back. He's like me, once he's made a decision he sticks to it no matter what. That's why he was always so loyal to me after I saved his live. And now I've lost his loyalty.

But I can't help but think that if this is how it feels losing him, I never want to endure losing Brittany.

I sigh.

Brittany. She's been in my life for such a short time but already she's easily _become _my life.

Why the fuck does this shit have to happen to me? Barely in my twenties and already I've lost three of the most important people in my life.

The difference in the atmosphere around camp is tangible as everybody struggles to come to terms with the loss of a comrade. The same questions can be heard over whispered conversations.

Where is he?

What do you think he's doing?

Will he come back?

I honestly don't know how much longer I can keep up my brave face.

"San, stop." Brittany's voice shakes me out of my head and I raise an eyebrow at her. "Just stop thinking. It won't do you any good right now, Sweetheart."

She's right. She always is.

I inwardly smile to myself when she calls me sweetheart though.

I muster a weak smile to try and appease her but I'm sure it comes out as more of a grimace.

"Come here."

I look at her sitting there with her sweet smile and arms wide open, inviting me in. I quickly look around to make sure nobody pays us any notice and lean into her embrace. Her arms envelope me into her and they provide immense comfort instantaneously.

I sigh again. "What do I do, Britt? How do I make this right again?" I ask, desperately clinging to the hope that there is actually something I can do.

"I don't know." She sighs. "But stop worrying for five minutes, okay? It'll all work out."

I don't tell her that somehow I doubt that that's the case and decide to just try to enjoy the feeling of simply being near her instead of constantly warring with my own mind.

Brittany breaks the silence after a minute. "San…"

"Hmm?" I hum.

"What are we?"

"… Humans, Britt." I say seriously.

Huffing, she tries to push me off but I refuse to let go of her, giggling quietly. It doesn't take her long to give in and let me cuddle up to her.

"I'm serious San… What are we now? Now that we've confessed how we feel for each other, I mean."

"I know what you mean, Britt." I sigh again. "But I'm afraid I don't know the answer to that one. I mean, how exactly is it that we feel for each other?"

Brittany pauses to tap her chin with her index finger in thought.

"All I know is that I don't ever want to be without you. Like I've just found exactly what I've been searching for, for longer than I ever could have realised."

I snigger. "Well, that's probably because you have. Just not in the way you had planned."

She lightly smacks the back of my head and lets out a little laugh which I return whilst nuzzling my nose into the crook of her neck.

"But you understand what I mean, right? Like, I feel drawn to you, like I need you and it scares the hell out of me but at the same time it excites me…"

A smile plays at the corners of my lips as I listen to her put words to her emotions.

"I know exactly what you mean, Britt-Britt." I lean back in her arms a little to get a good look at her face. Her deep blue eyes look back into mine, the light of our fire shimmering in them like ripples across the ocean. At my answer, her lips curl up into a sheepish grin and I can't resist the urge to lean in and place a gentle kiss on them.

"You know what I thought, the first time we kissed?" I ask her softly when I break the kiss.

She shakes her head, no.

"I thought that I had finally been completed, like a puzzle left neglected for years until someone finally comes along with that one piece that was hidden and fits it into place."

She smiles bashfully, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear and looking to the floor. "Really?"

"Really, really." I assure her and give her a gentle squeeze.

It's quiet for a moment as we sit and enjoy this short and rare moment of peace and privacy.

"Hey, San…"

"Yeah?"

"What are we gonna tell the posse?" Brittany asks.

"Um… I don't know…" I start, staring off into space. I knew this topic was going to come up sooner or later. "I think I'd rather _we_ knew what we are before we tell them though…"

"I understand that. We'll just take things how they come. Figure out what we are before we try to explain," She smiles gently at me. I give a firm nod in agreement. "Aaand that includes Quinn…" Her eyes go wide as they look past my shoulder.

"Wait, what?" My eyes snap back to hers in disbelief. "I don't think I'm really comfortable with her being a part of this… relationship, Brittany. I mean, she is my best friend and we do share a lot of things but-"

"What? No! She's coming towards us, at your six o'clock!" Brittany whispers loudly in warning.

"Fuck! What if she's noticed? What if she asks? What do we tell her? We have to tell her _something_!" I panic, my arms desperately flapping around like I'm trying to find something to hide us. I pick up a rock the size of my palm before realising how unrealistic that decision would have been and tossing it behind Britt.

"I don't know! Improvise!" Brittany whisper shouts, gripping onto my arm so tightly it's a miracle the skin hasn't broken under her nails.

"Fuck!"

I felt a little better for shouting that.

Though, admittedly it was louder than intended.

"Everything okay?" Quinn's gentle voice comes from behind me, concern ringing through it.

"What? Yeah, no everything's great! Dandy, in fact!" I practically squeal.

Quinn comes into my line of sight and looks at me with a brow quirked.

"You sure? You seem a little… jumpy."

"Sure? Of course I'm sure! We're great, aren't we Brittany?" I give Britt a pleading look for her to take the lead.

"Fantastic! We're fantastic!" She nervously chuckles out, looking anywhere but directly at Quinn.

"Yep! Fantastic!" I nod quickly.

Quinn's eyebrow just raises higher up her forehead and it's clear she doubts us.

"Why do you ask?" I manage to somehow calm my voice enough to sound a little less crazy.

She scrutinises me for a bit before answering. "Well, Puck _did _leave last night… I was just making sure you weren't still too upset about that."

_Shit. There's a point._

"I'm trying not to think about it, Q." I answer solemnly, my mood completely switching from insane to sombre. "I can't look weak in front of the guys, y'know?"

"Santana, they'd understand if you were upset about this. Everyone knows how close you both were." Quinn looks at me sadly.

"Maybe so, but I'm still their leader. I can't lead if I'm too busy worrying about the past."

I can tell she knows there's no point arguing with me, she's used to losing arguments to me.

She sighs and shakes her head before sitting down opposite Britt and I across the little camp fire we made for ourselves a little way away from the rest of the gang. She absentmindedly plays with a few loose threads from around the hole in the knee of her jeans, staring fixedly at the flames as they rise up and twist around in the air, casting a contradictory warm glow across her brooding face. I can tell she's thinking of something seriously by the way her eyebrows furrow together and she nibbles her lower lip nervously.

"What's up, Q? Is it Puck?" I ask, tilting my head to the side curiously. It's unusual for Quinn to show much emotion without doing it intentionally.

She looks up at me slowly, taking a deep, shuddering breath and looking directly into my eyes. I shift a little under her stare, uncomfortable.

"Did you mean what you said to Puck?" She asks cautiously.

My head cocks to the side again as I think. What in particular did I say to him to make her so nervous?

"That you might as well kill yourself if you killed Brittany?" She answers my unspoken question, sadness blatant upon her face as she casts her eyes downwards.

Oh. I did indeed say that to Puck…

I steal a glance at Britt and in the look she gives me I can tell we've reached a silent agreement.

Best to just be honest with Quinn.

"Yes, I meant that." I say simply, looking straight at her.

She doesn't look surprised, surprisingly, but more confused.

"But why?" She questions bluntly.

I shrug. "I wish I could tell you. We can't even really begin to describe how we feel for each other," I take a breath. "But we do know that we can never be without each other. I guess we feel drawn to each other. Wherever we are, if we're not near each other, we feel a constant need to be. The slightest touch from her and I feel more alive than I ever have and possibly ever could. I… We need each other…" I whisper the last part, avoiding Quinn's gaze. I feel Brittany's hand reach over and clasp mine firmly, her thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of my hand. A smile quirks at my lips and I know she can see, feeling myself blush at my own words.

_God, I've turned into such a sappy bastard…_

Quinn stays silent for a while and I begin to wonder if I shouldn't have told her after all.

I sit and watch her, dying for her to at least say something.

"Quinn… Say something, please." I pretty much beg.

Just when I'm about to regret saying anything, she looks up at me with a tiny smile.

"Well, if that's how you feel, Cap'n, then I'm happy for you. It's about time you had someone to care for in a stronger way than for me or the guys."

Wait, what?

I stare at her blankly, trying to comprehend how she could take this so well.

"Seriously? You're okay with this?" I ask doubtfully.

"Well sure. I mean, it's a little odd that you found this in another woman and most would say sinful. But if God already hates us, or frowns upon us at the very least, what harm can loving another woman do?"

Whoa, hey! Did she just say _love_?

My eyes and Brittany's noticeably widen in shock.

"What?" Quinn asks, picking up on our surprise.

"Love?" Brittany asks, her voice an octave higher than usual.

I suddenly let go of Brittany's hand and find the tumbleweed rolling past extraordinarily fascinating.

"Uh, well… Never mind! Let's just ignore that little word, shall we?" Quinn backpedals.

"Yeah," I cough. "Um, so anyway. Uh, thanks for not like, disowning us or anything…"

"No worries, Boss. In fact, if Brittany is that important to you, I promise I'll protect her whenever you can't. I don't want anything to happen to ruin this for you."

Brittany snaps out of her trance and laughs. "Protect me? Thanks Q, but I really don't need any protection."

Quinn just ignores her and nods at me. "Thank you for telling me girls. It means a lot that you can trust me with this." She smiles wide. "I won't say anything to the guys. Speaking of which, I better go tell those idiots to cheer the fuck up and drink."

She stands up and brushes off her faded blue jeans. Something seems to click in her mind as she tilts her head and stares off into space, thinking hard about something before she looks to us again.

"Have you ever wondered what Karofsky does with his guitar when we go on robberies? The man carries that thing around with him everywhere, but he mysteriously never has it when we rob places… And I know he doesn't leave it with his horse…" She taps her chin a few times with her forefinger in thought. She shrugs eventually before smiling one last time and leaving us by our fire.

"Well, she took that strangely well…" I think out loud.

"Very well…" Britt agrees, staring in the direction Quinn left.

* * *

**Not Santana's POV...**

**.**

I glare hard at the door in front of me, the dark wood taunting me, daring me to enter. I've been staring at this god damn door for so long I'm pretty sure I've got the particular shade, grain and chips committed to memory.

I keep feeling like this isn't as good an idea as I'd originally thought…

_No. Fuck it. This is for me. I'm a criminal, a scoundrel. This is what we do._

I take a deep breath and steel myself as I raise my fist to knock on the fucking door. But just as my knuckles are millimetres away from connecting with it, the door opens, my fist falling through thin air.

Nobody stands in the doorway and the room behind it is dark, save for the soft glow of candle light somewhere in the far corner and the light from the street leaking inside. Hesitantly, I peer my head around the frame, attempting to see if there is actually anybody near the door.

"Well don't just stand there like an idiot. Are you going to come in or not?" A familiar voice demands impatiently.

I clear my throat roughly before taking a deep breath and stepping forward into the ominous room.

To be greeted by ten too many guns to the face.

Immediately I stop, drop my own revolver to the floor and hold my hands up in surrender. I knew this was a fucking stupid idea.

"Aah, Noah "Lucky Puck" Puckerman. To what do I owe the pleasure? Here to turn yourself in, perhaps?" The same voice asks.

I turn to search for where the voice came from and see him, leaning back his huge, green leather armchair with his feet propped up on his desk and pipe in hand, blowing clouds of smoke around his dark face. The dim candle light reveals almost half of his face, casting an evil shadow across his right side.

_Get your shit together, Puckerman. You're acting like a good-for-nothing simpleton!_

I shake my head and put on a cocky half smile.

"I came to make a deal, actually."

"And what makes you think I can trust you? You're the West's second most wanted and for good reason."

My eyes flit around the small office as I try to hide my nerves.

_Are you sure about this, Pucky boy? Does she really deserve it?_

Yes. She abandoned me for her pet blonde. She deserves this.

I square my shoulders and jut my chin. "I can lead you to Santana Lopez."

Will Shuester smirks darkly. "Well, in that case, make yourself at home."

* * *

_Oooohh Puuuck! What have you dooone :O? What did you think? Leave a review :D_


	12. Don't You Dare!

**I can't even... I... Just fuck D: I cried like I don't know what at last night's episode :'( Crikey /3**

**Okay, so I'm curious about this chapter. Shit really kicks off! Like, not like Revenge, but like, action. If you've read the first chapter of I've Got You Under My Skin by myself and CrimsonJoy (CrimsonReno ;D), think that, but western and not as... violent... But with a little bit of comedy to lighten it...**

**If you haven't read IGYUMS, please do and let us know what you make of what we have so far :) We haven't updated in a while, but it's a priority!**

**But yeah! So please read and let me know what you think!**

**Also! Thank you to Quest (Life Among Mortals, amazing piece of work right there!) for helping me out with plot ideas! If it weren't for you, chapters 11 & 12 would have taken hella longer!**

**Revieeww, my pretties! Review! :D**

.

.

**Santana POV**

**.**

**.**

When we planned out the bank robbery; Quinn, Puck and I had agreed that we could all go back to Thieves Landing for drinks at the saloon again. So, three days later, here we all are, walking up to the swinging doors of the saloon. Minus Puck.

Entering the saloon, I'm a little surprised at how busy it is compared to being near enough empty the last time we were here. Almost all the tables are occupied, along with all the stools at the bar. We get the usual stare as we all step into the room and as usual we shrug it off, it's nothing new.

A small shudder runs up my spine though, catching me off guard. Everything looks perfectly normal in here, besides the over-crowdedness, but something seems off. I'm not quite sure what it is but I really don't want to go looking for trouble for now. We're here to relax after all.

I order myself and Brittany some dark rum and take a seat at one of the few free tables, the rest of my posse gradually following suit. They really need to get a second bartender in here…

When everyone finally has their drinks, we take up the last four tables, some men left standing around. It's nice to finally just try and relax and take my mind off of the stress of the past few days. I really haven't been able to think properly because of Puck, worrying about him. And because of how hard my mind has been trying to work, I've been getting terrible headaches. A sip of my rum already has a calming effect on me.

That is, until men start filing in through the doors and blocking them. Men from other tables stand up and turn to face us, threatening glares marring their faces. Then my _greatest _and most _cunning _foe steps out of the shadows in the corner.

_Fucking knew it… _I sigh internally.

I swear to God, this guy just does not give up. I haven't even done anything remotely illegal today.

"Shuester." I greet him smoothly, tipping my hat before taking another sip of rum.

Already he looks irritated by my apparent lack of surprise.

_Bit of a short fuse, no?_

"We've been expecting you. You took a little longer than anticipated, however."

I raise an eyebrow, feigning curiosity. Really, I'm bored. "Is that so?" I ask.

Shue sneers and nods over his shoulder. Another man steps forwards from the shadows, stopping to stand beside Shuester. His face is almost expressionless, staring straight ahead of him as he refuses to meet any of our gazes.

Some of my posse gasp in shock, others growl in anger.

Pain and betrayal hit me harshly when I see his face but I keep a calm façade and casually tip my hat to him too.

"You see," Shuester begins, apparently feeling the need to explain the obvious. "After you betrayed Puck here and forced him to leave your gang, he came to me and offered his information and in exchange, we cancelled our warrant for his arrest. He told me that you had made plans to be here tonight and look! He was an honest lad! You must have really hurt him to make him switch his allegiance that easily."

Next to me, I hear Brittany growl and see that Quinn's trying hard to hold back tears. I'm not going to lie, I'm almost there myself.

"I assume that this is your revenge, Puck?" I ask simply.

He doesn't answer me, instead becoming extremely interested in his boots and shuffling his feet slightly.

I look to Shue, " I hope you don't truly believe that we'll come quietly."

"Actually, I was hoping just the opposite." He smirks, swiftly pulling his gun on me.

This lad just doesn't fuck around, does he? Straight to the point.

I genuinely didn't even have time to react before Brittany had stood up and pointed her pistol at Shue.

Puck's attention snaps up and he points his gun at Brittany.

Just as quickly as Brittany had reacted, I jump up and aim my own revolver at Puck.

Around us stools screech against the floor as they are thrown back by my men who are also pulling their guns out and choosing someone from Shue's to aim at and vice versa.

"Well, well, well. Looks like we've got ourselves an impasse." I state.

"Shall we take this outside?" Shue sneers.

"Indeed."

Slowly, everyone holsters their weapons and wearily step outside, never once taking their eyes off of their respective enemy.

Shoulder to shoulder we stand from one side of the street to the other, about twenty paces in front of Shue and his men.

Random bystanders clear the road and hide in any building they can get to quick enough, anxious not to get caught up in the showdown.

"So how do you propose we go about this, Shuester?"

"On the count of three, it's fair game!"

I nod.

…

Silence.

…

"Well? Who the fuck is counting?" I shout over to him in exasperation.

"I thought you were!"

"I thought _you _were!"

"Okay then, I'll count!" I think he's just about as exasperated. _Just._

"Good!" There's another pause. "Well bloody well go then, you blethering idiot!"

"Okay, okay! One…" Shue counts.

Finally…

Almost in sync, my guys and I shift our stances into a slight crouch.

"Two…"

Again almost in sync, we reach for our guns again, our fingers hovering above the grips.

"Thr-!" Shue shouts, grabbing his weapon with his posse shadowing him.

"Spread!" I shout and my boys all bolt in different directions, taking cover where they can or just plain charging at our opponents.

"That's not the rules!" Shue screams angrily.

"Outlaws, mate!" I shout back, grinning.

I take cover behind the porch steps of a house opposite and just down a bit from the saloon and start firing over the edge before regularly ducking back down to reload or dodge shots.

Grunts, gunshots and yells of agony fill the air and it finally dawns on me that I have no damn clue where Brittany is. My heart sinks as I automatically jump to the worst conclusion.

"Shit! Brittany, where are you?!" I shout.

"Right behind you, Love." Brittany says as she skids through the dirt on her hip to the spot next to me. She gets up into a crouch, aims precisely and fires mercilessly over my stairs.

"Thank god." I breathe with relief and steal a kiss from her when she stops briefly to reload.

The sound of glass shattering, the roar of fire and sickening screams bring me to break the kiss suddenly. I look round a barrel to my left and see Karofsky holding a bottle of rum with a rag stuffed into the top. He's just about to light it as he grins at the men rolling in the dirt, desperately attempting to put out the flames on their clothes.

"Karofsky! What in the fuck are you doing?" I yell angrily.

He grins wider, like an excited infant and points to the doorway of the saloon next to where he stands. I follow his finger and see Sam the bartender holding four more bottles in his arms.

I bite my lip to suppress a long bout of curse words and shake my head with my eyes wide in horror.

"But why is the rum gone?!" I shout as a knife flies past my face. Honestly, I don't even give a shit how close that was. He's wasting perfectly good rum.

We'll be having words later.

Karofsky cackles and throws the second bottle, much to my loathing. He's enjoying himself far too much. I worry about him sometimes.

I look through the new explosion of flames and see Quinn and Puck standing with their guns in each other's faces. They seem to be off in their own world, at war with themselves about having to shoot each other.

I instantly worry about them. Not just because they could potentially kill each other, but because even if _they_ don't, they're standing right in the open with no sense of cover. I think, but there's nothing that I can do from here and bullets are flying everywhere.

Azimio Adams' burly frame sprints through my line of sight, drawing my attention away from my friends as I watch him tackle a man to the ground roughly. I vaguely remember the man's face… Abrams? Artie Abrams? This one time, he tried to arrest me at the train station in Armadillo for tearing down my own Wanted poster. To be fair, I don't really believe that's _why _he tried to arrest me…

But, you know, it's not that I care that everyone knows I'm a criminal and that there's a reward on my head…

But that picture of me was horrendous.

Azimio gets so caught up in pinning Artie to the ground, he doesn't notice another man step up behind him and aim his gun at the back of his head.

I don't let him get the chance to pull the trigger though, I shoot him in the back of the knee before shooting between his shoulder blades twice.

Beside me, I hear Britt squeal and I turn my head to see her dive to the ground. The wood of the porch where her head had just been was being shot to shit.

"Britt! Are you okay?" I ask desperately, firing at the guy who had tried to kill my Britt-Britt.

"I'm good, he missed." Britt breathes out a breath of relief.

"Thank fuck for that. But nobody tries to kill you and lives to tell the tale." I reply, pointing to his crumpled body.

"Thank you," Britt says gratefully, rewarding me with another little kiss. "I'm going to go help Finn, he looks like he could use it." She gets up to sprint over to him without another word.

I see Finn down the street, struggling to fend off two men and shout to Brittany to be careful.

Everything was going crazy. Splinters of wood were exploding from buildings, bangs were constant and loud, screams and grunts were overwhelming. I have to look for Shue and end this before it gets even more out of hand.

After dodging three knives and about a thousand bullets, I find him at the opposite end of the street to where he had started off.

"Hey, Greasy! Enjoying what you started?" I shout from behind him, effectively deterring his attention away from Rick Nelson.

"I don't think I've had this much fun since I celebrated the death of your parents, my dear!" He sneers in a disgusting, creepy way.

My temper shorts out and I snarl, "The wolves will have your bloodied remains when I'm done with you!"

"I'm sure. I know all about your notorious fights, let's hope you don't disappoint."

"Hit me with your best shot, Asshole!" With my lightning reflexes I quickly draw up my pistol to aim straight at Will's face.

Finger on the trigger.

Aaand squeeze!

And freeze…

… When an ominous click sounds in place of a deafening bang.

"Shit…" I breathe shakily, trying not to panic.

"Oh? What's this? No ammo?" Shue taunts.

I growl in fury.

_Fucking sharp observation, there._

"Well then, that just wouldn't be fair of me to shoot you then, would it?"

I don't reply. I'm too angry and embarrassed. _I'm _supposed to be the one taunting _him._

Shue must see something over my shoulder that amuses him because he grins wickedly a moment later, causing the cold shiver that runs up my spine.

"Looky here! The bounty hunter turned criminal!" He says excitedly.

Okay, now I'm starting to panic. I turn to look over my shoulder too and watch as Britt side-kicks a man in his knee caps before lunging forwards and striking his face with her elbow.

I growl even louder as I turn back to see Shue still watching her with interest.

"Puckerman told me all about how you betrayed him for the beautiful Ms Pierce. Now, I find that a little strange, personally. You forced your friend and right-hand man to leave your gang because he was right in telling you that a woman who was intending to murder you could not be trusted."

Guilt nags at my mind and heart and I'm lost for words.

"What's even less comprehensible to me is the fact that not only has she not killed you, you insist she stay around, even knowing her original intentions. Puck as also told me of the way you two look at each other. Oh! And what you said to him before he came to join me! What was it again? 'If I kill her, I might as well kill myself while I'm at it'? See, the meaning of that statement is usually reserved for lovers…"

My throat becomes dry and I struggle to gulp down the lump that has lodged itself there as my nerves and adrenaline go crazy.

"You know what else it means, Lopez? It means that I don't have to just kill you. I can kill her and then I get to watch you suffer the worst pain imaginable before you take your own life out of sheer misery. That sounds much more entertaining." He grins his stupid, creepy, ridiculous grin.

My blood runs cold as he lifts his Flintlock revolver to Brittany.

He smirks.

It feels like time slows down as I watch his grip change around the handle.

His thumb cocks the hammer and his finger starts to pull the trigger and I scream louder than I thought possible .

Instinctually, I jump to my right.

At first it feels like a really hard punch and I gasp as I stagger backwards.

The muscles where my neck meets my shoulder feel like I've just been stabbed by a blade forged of solidified fire.

Not a second later I feel a second burst of pain explode low on the right side of my chest.

Already I feel dizzy as I still struggle to remain on my feet. I reach up with both hands and hesitantly touch where Shue had shot me. Pulling my fingers back, I saw more than felt the blood that covered them and the palms of my hands.

A piercing scream breaks through my haze as I slump to my knees. My breaths come sharp and quick as I gasp for air.

My vision starts going out of focus and all I can see are blurry colours. I hear three loud gunshots nearby and pray that they're not from Shue's gun but after the shots I hear nothing at all. No high pitched screech, no low hum, nothing.

Desperately sucking down what little air I can, my legs give way and I collapse to the ground completely. I screw my eyes shut tight as my body convulses in agony.

_Fuck._

_.  
_.

**Brittany POV**

**.**

**.**

My opponent kicks my gun out of my hands, leaving me completely unarmed after having left my knife in some guy's stomach a while back. I pivot my body to the side and swiftly land a kick to his knee caps. When he falls forward I throw myself towards him, forcing my elbow into his face with as much force as I can gather.

Barely a couple of seconds later, the scream of a familiar voice and a particularly loud gunshot rip through my ears and my head snaps up.

My stomach drops and my heart freezes when I see Santana stagger backwards, reaching up to her chest and neck. I feel sick when I see blood all over her hands when she pulls them away.

I don't think I've ever screamed louder than I do when Santana falls to her knees.

Rage overwhelms me, restarting my heart and shoving me into action. I pick up the nearest gun and check the magazine and chamber for ammunition. Satisfied, I storm towards Shuester. Adrenaline, fury and outrage outweigh any other feeling, clearing my mind for just one thought. One that has plagued my mind for years. Revenge.

Shuester looks up from Santana and watches me approach, fear in his eyes. For a second I wonder what he sees in mine when I aim my newly acquired Colt Paterson at his forehead.

I don't hesitate to squeeze the trigger. Quite the opposite, I can't help but pull it twice more for good measure.

My breaths come heavily, burning my lungs as I watch his body fall lifelessly backwards into the railing of a house.

Gradually, I start to come back to my senses. However, Santana's body collapsing next to me snaps me out of it like a bucket of ice cold water being thrown over me.

I fall to my knees next to her; panic, fear and despair setting in when I see all the blood. It's everywhere, pooling around her on the ground even. I immediately push my hands against her wounds, leaning on them and praying that it's enough pressure to stem the flow of blood.

"Santana! Santana, open your eyes! Talk to me, Love! Santana!" I cry desperately. "Help! Quinn! Karofsky! Please! Someone help us!"

My eyes search for Quinn but even as the remaining law men flee in realisation that their leader is dead, I still can't see her.

I look back down to Santana, tears openly flowing down my cheeks and her blood trickling through my fingers, managing to make my panic rise even further.

"Don't you dare die on me, Santana Lopez! Don't you fucking dare! Not now that I've finally found you!"

* * *

_I know! I know! I'm an asshole! I'm sorry! D: A penny for your thoughts though?_


	13. Helpless

**Hey guys! I gots a new chapter for yaaa ;D This one is different from all the others because of the fact that it's all in 3rd person and past tense! Also, because a few of you were wondering what happened to Quinn and Puck, this chapter follows Quinn from when Santana sees them across the fight :D It's a tad grim, but the very end of it's slightly lighter :D It turned out strangely shorter than expected... Do you ever get really carried away and feel like you're on a roll but when you're done, you word count and find that you did not nearly as much as you'd thought? Yeah, totally had that D:**

**Thank you to all those who have followed, favourited and reviewed this story so far! You guys are awesome :D Lots of love for you!**

**Read away, comrades! Please leave a review too! :D**

**.**

.

.

Quinn glared at Puck, seeing nothing but a shadow behind his eyes. The Puckerman she knew wouldn't have stabbed a friend so viciously in the back, twisting and pushing the dagger deeper. His stance mirrored hers, their weapons raised and threatening as the dusk light glinted off the warm metals into their eyes. His hazel orbs, usually so similar to her own, were cold and hard, a stark contrast to the last time she'd looked into them. Back when they were friends.

"I can't believe you would betray us like this!" She snorted disdainfully.

He winced but steeled himself. "If you're so angry, do something about it!" He deflected.

Quinn scowled and gripped her Flintlock hard. She took a deep breath and stared down the length of her barrel between Pucks eyes. She wanted this, she kept telling herself.

But she couldn't. She was just lying to herself. No matter how much she told herself that he deserved it, she couldn't kill him.

"What did you hope to achieve by ratting us out?" She grunted, internally surprised at the exertion of trying to make herself pull the trigger.

Puck hesitated, his gaze flickering away from hers momentarily. "I admit I was stupid. I just wanted to get back at Santana, but I didn't think it through beforehand." He sighed, returning his stare to her harsh glare.

"Oh, really?" She sneered sarcastically. She briefly jiggled her grip on her revolver, cracking all of her fingers before clutching it even tighter than before.

Puck narrowed his eyes at her and grunted. "You make it sound like you've never betrayed anyone, yourself. What about-"

Quinn cut him off with a growl. "Don't fucking go there! Especially if you know what's good for you."

He shrugged. "Your parents would understand where I'm coming from."

"I said shut the fuck up!" She growled, a tear escaping the prison of her eyelashes.

"I say 'would' of course, because you got them _killed_."

Quinn cried out in pain, the tears flowing freely then.

"_You _made friends with that little Cheyenne boy," Puck continued, feigning innocence. "_You_ made the mistake of apologising for your parents' stealing two of their finest and most precious horses and killing one of their men. So young, so innocent… It's a shame, really." He shook his head in mock sadness.

Quinn felt the heartbreak, despair and anguish crash over her like a tsunami as she relived that night in her mind. Almost immediately though, rage and disbelief powered through her veins. She screeched like a banshee as she pulled the trigger, blowing a hole in Pucks firing arm and pounced on him, knocking him to the ground. She straddled his writhing body, pinning his arms by his sides with her knees and pressed the end of her barrel to his forehead.

"How in the fuck do you know all that?" She growled. "I've never spoken of it to anyone, not even to Santana!"

He hissed and groaned in pain. "I'm Noah Puckerman, I know everything that goes on in these parts," He spat. "Wouldn't be a good criminal if I didn't!"

Quinn scowled at him, seeing red. She didn't say anything as her wild glare narrowed, opting instead for cocking her hammer.

She wills the lump in her throat to dissipate and forces the stinging behind her eyes to stop, a second later appearing eerily calm. She cocked her head and raised a brow. "You know what else is a shame?" She enquires offhandedly. "I thought I was in love with you."

Pucks eyes widened as he stared at her in shock.

"I got scared," She went on. "I couldn't let myself love you. It would have been dangerous and impractical. So I shut those feelings away and did my best to ignore them. Did you really believe I just got bored of you?"

He was speechless then, opening and closing his mouth soundlessly as he struggled to find the words to answer. It all clicked for him in that moment, why Quinn had suddenly just gone cold on him the year before.

"Well," She continued harshly. "I'm glad I did, because it makes doing _this-_" She lifted the point of her gun to the fresh bullet wound in his arm, digging it in at an angle and firing again. "_So _much easier," She sighed, Puck screaming and writhing beneath her.

Her ears perked up a second later when she heard Brittany's desperate voice scream her name and the word 'Help!' amidst the symphony of unadulterated warfare.

She glared down at Puckerman and growled "You got off far too fucking easy, _Puckerman_." She sneered his name, venom dripping from each syllable.

She picked herself up off of him and landed a hefty kick to his ribs, hearing a couple of cracks beneath her boot.

With one last glower in his direction, Quinn turned and ran in search for Brittany. The strangled screams of "Don't you dare die on me!" made it easy for her to find her but set off the sickly feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach.

A harsh gasp escaped her lips and she stopped dead when she saw Santana lying in a dirty pool of blood, Brittany frantically pressing her weight on her and a dead Will Shuester a few feet away.

Brittany's continued screams jolted Quinn into action again and she sprinted to her side immediately. "What the fuck happened?!" She choked, trying to find someway to help.

Brittany hurriedly explained that Will had shot Santana, so she shot and killed him. Her sobbing and endless torrent of tears made it a great deal harder for Quinn to understand her but she got the gist of it.

She looked down to see how Santana's typically tanned face had paled extremely, her eyes were shut tight and her jaw was dropped as she gasped for air. Quinn didn't know what to do, she had never been good in situations like these. She was good at numbers and literature, not fatal injuries. The only person she knew could fix an injury even remotely terrible was Brittany and she was in too much of a state next to her, unable to control her own emotions let alone do any good.

Santana's breathing gurgled and blood trickled from her lips as she choked weakly. Her bloodied hands clawed at the earth, desperately clinging onto this world.

"Britt…" Quinn mutters but her friend won't stop screaming. "Britt! Stop! Look at me!" She reached out and grabbed her face, forcing Brittany to look at her. "Stop. It's not helping, okay, sweetie?"

Brittany ceased her agonised wails but barely. The tears still fell uncontrollably and her lower lip jutted out, trembling as she tried to contain her sobs.

"Santana." Quinn gently touched her face, turning Santana's head from side to side. "Santana, honey, open your eyes. Please. Open your eyes!" Santana's eyes didn't open. "Come on, talk to me! Nod if you can hear me! Anything! Santana!" Quinn's worry increased tenfold when Santana didn't respond.

Quinn wasn't a doctor and she had never felt so helpless. Her best friend was dying in front of her and there was nothing she could do about it. She hated feeling so damned useless.

Brittany was a wreck beside her, back to her screaming and near enough completely blinded by her tears.

Quinn simply stared at Santana's body, too shocked to think.

Santana's breathing got weaker and more ragged, her fingers lost their grip and her eyelids relaxed.

Quinn choked on a sob as her heart broke into pieces.

Brittany fell to the ground, breaking down completely and curled up against Santana's body, clutching onto her hand, practically crushing it with the desperation in her grasp. She couldn't even scream anymore, she was so far past hopelessness as all colour drained from the world.

A pair of white-sleeved arms reached down into Quinn's line of sight and scooped up the limp form of her leader away from the two of them. Brittany didn't even seem to notice as she stared into nothingness, dirt, blood and salty water marring her usually beautiful face.

Quinn jumped up, growling and grabbed the man's white coat, roughly pulling him back to her.

"Who the _fuck _are you and what the _fuck _do you think you're doing?"

The man turned around and grinned. His dark, almond eyes were sparkling and strangely soothing to her anxiety.

"Trust me, my dear! I'm a doctor!" He chirped. Without another word he spun back around and trudged away with Santana still in his arms.

Quinn started to follow but remembered Brittany was still a mess at her feet. She turned around to get her but found Sam the bartender standing behind her with a broken Brittany thrown over his shoulder.

Quinn frowned.

"What?" Sam asked, perplexed.

She motioned to Britt's body.

"Oh, yeah. She was a bit difficult to pick up elegantly…"

Quinn shrugged. "Did you see where that Asian 'doctor' went?"

"That's Doctor Chang. He will have taken her to his practice, just over there. " Sam pointed at a beautiful green house with white window frames around the corner. "Follow me."

Quinn followed quickly albeit wearily as Sam took the lead. She was unsure whether to trust the two men but given the situation, she decided she didn't really have much choice.

"The doctor has an unexpected accent." Quinn remarked, trying to keep her mind busy. "Not American and certainly not Chinese."

Sam shrugged as best he could. "He was raised in England, he moved here a couple years ago."

He came to a stop outside a pretty oak door and gestured for Quinn to go first.

She cautiously stepped past him and gasped when she saw the bloodied door knob. She took a deep breath to prepare herself and gripped it tightly, ignoring the sticky warmth of the residue, turned it and stepped inside.

* * *

_Whaaat? Mike's English? I'm aiming for him to be as chirpy as Robert Downey Jr's portrayal of Sherlock Holmes XD But yeah! What did you think? Did we clear up a few things about Quinn or did I just raise another question? And what do you think will happen to our loverly Captain? Let me know!_


	14. The Doctor

**Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated in a while, I've been getting pretty caught up with You Wanna Be The Badass? You Gotta Take Out The Badass at the moment :/ BUT Here's another chapter for you ^_^**

**Speaking of YWBTB?YGTOTB, if you haven't read it yet, please do! Let me know what you think about my first High School fic XD**

**Anyways, hope you enjoy this update :D**

**.**

**.**

**.**

Quinn stepped over the threshold and immediately felt conflicting emotions about the place. On the one hand, she was creeped out by the eerie quiet of the candle lit house but on the other, she was comforted by the cosiness of it. The short corridor straight ahead of her held three doors on the right, two on the left and one at the very end and lining the walls were large portraits of handsome men and pretty women. Underneath each portrait were small tables with candles and sepia-toned photographs of more of what Quinn assumed were the doctor's family members. In a few of the photographs she noticed the doctor himself and a small woman in a beautiful frilly dress, standing on an impressive bridge in front of an extravagant clock tower, their arms wrapped securely around one another and wide smiles adorning their faces.

As she examined each photo, transfixed, she slowly started walking further into depths of the corridor. The faint sounds of clinking metal and gentle humming gradually brought her back to being aware of her surroundings and the thrum of nerves settled low in her stomach as she followed the din, gulping loudly in an attempt to clear the ever growing lump in her throat.

She found herself in front of the second door on the left, shakily turning the handle and pushing it open.

The space in front of her was filled with shelves upon shelves of books. There was a dimpled leather sofa over by the large windows and two armchairs of the same upholstery in the center of the room, separated by a tall, shaded lamp and a little coffee table that was littered with newspapers and a pair of reading glasses.

The clinking and humming were coming from the back corner of the room where she saw the doctor standing over an ominous metal table, his back to her. He was blocking her view, but Quinn could still see Santana's body from her bare stomach to her toes and she was itching to know if she would make it out of this okay.

But at the same time, she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

But she had to. So she took a deep breath and a step forward.

"If you have a weak stomach, please refrain from observing this procedure." Doctor Chang's calm voice stopped her, his eyes never straying from his work.

Quinn jumped a little, having not expected him to talk any time soon. She once again tried to swallow back the rock in her throat and ignored the sweat that coated her palms.

"I've seen enough gore in my life. There's no wound that could make my stomach turn."

She was surprised at the resolution behind her voice.

Doctor Chang nodded once over his shoulder, allowing her to join him.

Her feet were sluggish, dragged down by dread as she walked to stand at the opposite side of the operating table.

Her heart weighed heavy in her chest and she sniffled as she tried to hold back a tear.

The first thing she noticed was how relaxed her best friend's face was. Had her skin not been layered with a thin sheen of sweat, Santana's beautiful features would have given nothing away and one mightn't have thought she was unconscious against her will at all.

Quinn trailed her stinging eyes down her body, noticing for the first time the leather shackles holding Santana's wrists and ankles to the cool metal, restraining her should she wake up.

Quinn shuddered at the thought and watched the doctor's steady hands instead.

Santana's shirt had been cut off and now lay in ribbons, scattered around the wooden floorboards. The bare skin of her torso glinted with blood and sweat, streaks running down the gentle dips of her ribs and toned abdomen. Dr Chang was in the process of removing the bullet from her chest with a scary looking pair of tweezers and a long, thin metal stick he was using to poke flesh and innards out of the way. The wound at her neck was bandaged tightly to stem the blood flow but still some seeped through, contrasting starkly against the clean white of the cloth.

After some time, the quiet sound of wet squelching was interrupted by a dull click.

"Ah, hah! There you are, you little cretin!" Dr Chang cheered. He clenched his hand and pulled the tweezers up and out, holding the bullet securely as he shook his fist excitedly.

He turned to a shiny metal tray beside him that Quinn hadn't noticed before and dropped the round onto it carelessly before cleaning up the wound and dressing it firmly.

When he had finished that, he carefully turned Santana over onto her good shoulder and unwrapped the temporary bandaging.

"Hmm…" He stared hard, scrutinising every last inch of the area.

"What do you mean by 'Hmm'?" Quinn asked, worry coating her voice.

"The bullet went straight through her shoulder, I just need to check for some long term damage before I can do anything else."

She simply nodded silently as she watched him work.

"The morphine should help with the pain, but all we can really do now is wait, I'm afraid." He said as he dried his then clean hands on a spare rag in the opposite corner.

She made no move, nor sound to acknowledge him as she stared down at her lifelong friend a little longer. Lifting her hand, she lightly ran the tips of her fingers against the cool skin of Santana's arm, wrist to elbow, elbow to wrist, repeatedly.

She sniffled as she watched her closed eyelids, silently hoping, _praying _for them to open, for dark chocolate eyes to find her again.

A single tear escaped and she released a shaky breath.

"Fuck, San, stay alive… please… You're my best friend. I need you to be okay. Can you do that for me?"

When she got no reply, her head fell back and she stared up at the ceiling, inhaling deeply to try to steady her heart.

She sobbed once and squeezed Santana's hand, looking back to her once more.

"I love you, you know? You're the sister I've always had but never realised it. I would say you're the sister I always wished for, but that would be a lie. I've never wished for a sister, but now I realise that's because I've always had you. Be alive."

She squeezed her hand once again and slunk out from behind the table, heading to follow wherever the doctor had gone.

With one last look, Quinn quietly shut the door behind her.

She found herself alone in the dim corridor and took a moment to compose herself, gently wiping away the moisture on her face and breathing deeply still.

She saw light pouring through the cracks of the doorframe at the end of the hall and heard a different clinking coming through the wood. She tilted her head as she followed the sound and discovered a brightly lit kitchen.

Sam was sitting at the dining table, watching interestedly as a woman who Quinn assumed to be Dr Chang's wife tried to encourage a shaking Brittany to take a biscuit and a mug of hot tea in the armchair in the corner of the room.

Quinn stood awkwardly in the doorway, not quite sure of what to do next.

"Would you like a cup of tea, dear?"

She looked to the far end of the kitchen and saw the doctor standing there, holding a steaming kettle. All she could bring herself to do was nod silently.

Once he'd handed her her mug, he stuck his hand out to her.

"I'm terribly sorry, I haven't introduced myself yet! My name is Dr. Michael Chang and this," he reached over to pull the woman into a tight sideways hug. "is my beautiful wife, Tina!"

He grinned and ducked his face down quickly to place a chaste kiss upon her cheek.

Quinn tried to smile, really, she did. But her body just didn't seem to want to co-operate. Or her mind just didn't want to compute. She felt exhausted and terrified and concerned and upset and distraught… she felt a whole plethora of emotions and none were nice.

"Oh, please, have a seat, dear." The woman, Tina urged. Her dark eyes were soothing and sincere and Quinn found herself letting this woman guide her with her hand pressed to the small of her back, towards the table with Sam.

She sank heavily into her chair and stared blankly at the grains in the wood of the table. She could feel her body swaying slightly but she just couldn't bring herself to care.

She faintly heard whimpering and lifted her head to see Brittany curled up on the armchair, hugging her knees and rocking slightly as silent tears continued to pour down her face and she stared at the wall.

Quinn worried for Brittany about as much as she worried for San, but right then she just didn't know what she could do.

She blinked and turned back to memorising the grain of the table, the steam of her untouched tea swirling in her line of sight, blurring the lines a little.

She could hear the faint murmur of the conversation that Mike, Tina and Sam were having, but couldn't find the energy to make the effort to discern the words.

Her swaying got faster little by little and tiny little black dots began to appear before her eyes.

Her lips quirked up at one corner and she sighed.

The spots grew and multiplied until there were only little pinpricks of light reaching her.

And finally, everything went black.

* * *

_Poor Quinn :( What do you think? Next chapter will most likely be back to Britt's POV, so if you were missing that, stay tuned :)_

_Also, if any of you wanna follow me on Twitter, go for gold :) Maddie_Nye , you can ask me questions, we can talk about random shit, we can do whatever :)_


End file.
